


The Greatest Show

by Kori_chan_draws



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst, Artists, Character Death, Circus, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Kaleido Star, Inspired by The Greatest Showman (2017), Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Magenta Guy, Non-Binary Chara, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Alexander Hamilton, Poor Thomas, Texting, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kori_chan_draws/pseuds/Kori_chan_draws
Summary: or: The Hamilton Circus AU noone asked for, inspired by The Greatest Showman because I am Musical trash*When Alex joins The Revolution to be able to perform the way he always wanted, he doesn't expect to find not only friends, but also a family at the circus. He quickly becomes a successful trapeze artist. However, when an old member of the circus (who happens to also be a trapeze artist) comes back from France and he is forced to work together with him, things start to get a little bit out of control.(lots of friendship, some pining, some texting, trust issues, all the fun stuff)





	1. Chapter 1

“Thank you very much! I hope you enjoyed our show, and make sure to come by again. We’ll be here for the next two weeks!” George smiled broadly at the audience, who was still cheering (even though the final number had already ended a few minutes ago), bowing one last time. Then, he left the manege and went back to the separated part of the tent, where the artists waited.

He looked around at the happy faces and smiled to himself. The first show at a new city was always exciting for everyone involved, and he was glad that everything had gone so smoothly. He saw Lafayette, John, and Hercules standing together in one corner. The French was explaining something to the other two, their arms flying around wildly as they tried to express what they wanted to say. Their red and golden costume sparkled in the dim light. John grinned at them while absentmindedly playing with a knife in his left hand. His right hand fiddled with the buttons of his loose shirt. Hercules, meanwhile, stretched his arms over his head and flexed his muscles to loosen them up.

A few steps away from them, Theodosia was talking to Peggy. Her hair was tied up in a strict pony tail, silver glittering bands wrapped around it. Peggy nodded along with Theodosia, throwing in a comment once in a while, and proceeded to feed the monkey that was seated on her shoulder. The other two Schuyler sisters gave each other a high five when George’s eyes met them. Maria stood next to them, absentmindedly wrapping up her fabric tapes that were a bit tangled from her performance, while she stared at Eliza with star shaped eyes and a dreamy smile.

Aaron was probably outside, putting away the horses, while James and Martha were busy in the area the visitors were allowed in. All in all, everything was how it should be.

George should have known better than to trust this peace.

“Wait, you can’t go in there,” he suddenly heard an urgent voice.

“Watch me,” another voice snapped.

The first voice – Aaron, that definitely was him – spoke up again. “You have to stay out there, or else …”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence before the tent entrance was yanked open and a man stormed in. George blinked in surprise. The man quickly looked around himself before fixing his eyes on him, quickly walking towards him. “Sir, I have to speak to you!”

The circus director looked down at the man in front of him. From up close, what George had already noticed before was even more evident – this man was quite … tiny. His eyes, however, looked fierce enough to raise the interest of anyone who would look into them, and his confidence immediately took up the entire room.

Behind the man, Aaron Burr appeared. He was panting slightly. The silver paint on his face was still evident, even though it was a bit smudged at some points. “I apologize, sir. This man wanted to see you, but he wouldn’t wait for me to get you.”

“It is quite alright,” George said in a calming tone. Then, he turned towards the man in question. “You wanted to speak to me, Mister …”

“Hamilton, Sir. Alexander Hamilton.” He grabbed George’s hand and shook it enthusiastically, smiling broadly. “I’ve seen your show.”

George smiled, still a bit confused. “And you enjoyed it?”

“Oh yes! The artists were all really talented, and your costumes and light effects and so on are great! I mean, there are of course things that could be done better in terms of timing and stuff, but you could look into that in the near future. For now, I would like to ask something, propose some ideas that I have.”

The director didn’t even know what to say to that, so he simply continued to look at the man – Hamilton. After Hamilton had finished his sentences in a total of 3 seconds, George bit his lip in thought. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I believe that every show can be made better, and it is the job of every visitor to contribute to that. But even more so …” He took a deep breath. “I want to join your circus.”

It was quiet for some time. The other artists had gone quiet at some point during Hamilton’s rambling, and now, you would have been able to hear a pin drop.

George raised an eyebrow. This man could not be serious. Marching in here and asking – no, almost demanding – to get to join his team … This was definitely not the conventional way to handle an application. But even when the director didn’t respond for several long moments, Hamilton didn’t back down. If anything, he made himself look taller by sticking out his breast. It looked funny, really. But his eye twitched. He couldn’t handle being completely silent for so long, obviously. And just when George thought the younger man would break the silence, the tent entrance was yanked open again.

“Mom, dad! Can a friend come over tomorrow? She was in the show tonight and she liked it and I showed her my pony and she wants to come over tomorrow? Please!” Theo ran up to her father, wrapping her arms around his leg. She was a smart child; she knew that her chances were far higher when she asked her father for permission. He loved her with every part of his being, leaving him completely at her mercy.

And with that, the conversations in the room picked up again. George crossed his arms and bit his lip thoughtfully. “What can you do? Are you even an artist?”

Hamilton nodded. “I got a scholarship at the Circus Arts Academy in New York, and I can do lots of artistic stuff, though I am mostly provisioned in the trapeze and aerial loop, and I noticed that you don’t have a trapeze number at the moment. Which I find odd, by the way. People love trapeze numbers. But anyways, I could fill that spot, or I could also do other stuff.” He took a deep breath. “I’m good at what I do.”

“We’ll see about that …”, the director mumbled thoughtfully. “Do you have a place to stay near here?”

Hamilton shook his head. “I read that your circus would perform here, so I took the bus and arrived around noon, and then I didn’t really … think further ahead.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“John!”, George called out. “Can you come over here, please?”

John, who had been listening to their conversation with more interest than the others, jumped towards them in an instant. “Yes, sir?”

“Can you let Alexander stay with you for tonight? He will join our training tomorrow and doesn’t have a place to sleep.”

Hamilton blinked in surprise. “Really? You’ll let me join the training? Thank you!” He then turned towards John and shook his hand. “My name is Alexander Hamilton, but you can call me Alex. You’re John, right? Your skills with the knife are amazing …”

George looked after the odd duo, frowning slightly. He had a feeling that he was by no means prepared for what he had gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your sweet comments! They meant a lot <3 I wasn't sure if anyone would be interested in a Circus AU, but your feedback really motivated me to write faster.  
> I have currently written 4 chapters, and for now, I plan to update this story 2 times a week (probably Tuesday and Saturday), but if anything changes about this schedule, I will let you know.

“Your skills with the knife are amazing! I saw your Instagram page. That trick you uploaded there, the one with the burning knifes, holy crap. Why didn’t you perform it in the show tonight?” Alex was bouncing on his feet as he followed John out of the tent.

The freckled knife artist grinned, a light blush covering his cheeks. “I’m just not 100% ready to perform it live, you know? I don’t want Lafayette go get hurt. But thanks, anyway. I appreciate it.”

“I’m a big fan, really. Of the whole circus. I wanted to be part of The Revolution since before I entered the academy.” He beamed at John. “I had actually never heard of it before it became independent, but from that moment on, I knew that I needed to be part of it. I mean, really? A small circus becoming independent from the Circus of Britannia, and becoming super successful?”

“Wow, slow down, geez.” John chuckled and took Alexander by his arm. “Come on, let’s get into my caravan. I need to get out of these clothes. They are sweaty as fuck.”

Once they made it to the caravan, John asked Alex to sit down at the small table next to the entry. Then, he opened the fridge and took out a bottle of beer, handling it to the newcomer. “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing in the back of the caravan.

Alexander looked around the small room. It was tiny, but that was to be expected. The table he sat at had space for three people (four, if you brought an additional chair) and was set in the corner on the right side of the door. On the wall opposite of the door, a small kitchenette was placed. The other wall consisted of a wardrobe, and then, there was the separated part. Alex guessed that that was where John slept.

He opened his beer and took a sip. The last days had been so rushed. He wondered how the training would go on the following day. Although, training was probably not the right word. For Alexander, it was more like a casting.

Washington had seemed like an interesting man. The circus director had been energetic and animating throughout the show, and calm and collected afterwards. Alex looked forward to working with him.

Then there was Aaron Burr. The vaulter had been taking care of his and his wife’s horses when Alex had come backstage, sneaking around the signs that proclaimed that it was forbidden to go there. Burr had politely asked him to leave, but of course, Alex had not been willing to do so.

And then, there was John Laurens. Alex had immediately liked the freckled Latino from South Carolina. He knew that John was quite popular on Instagram (although he was nothing compared to his colleague Lafayette when it came to social media), but to think that the man would be so nice to him surprised Alexander.

He couldn’t wait to meet the rest of the artists. He looked especially forward to talking to Lafayette. They performed with balancing acts and tightrope dancing, and Alexander had always been fascinated by any kind of trick performed high up in the air. There was a certain pull inside of him, something that just made him want to leave the ground, get closer to the sky, _fly_ …

“Sorry I took so long.”

With a jerk, Alex came back to reality and saw John standing next in the tiny room. His hair lay around his shoulders in loose curls, and he had changed out of his performance clothes and into some sweat pants and a tank shirt.

“Uhm … no problem. I was lost in thought anyways.” Alexander smiled sheepishly and took another sip from his beer.

John took a second bottle out of the fridge and sat down on the other side of the table. “So … You perform on the trapeze, right?”

He nodded. “Trapeze and aerial loop. And all the fun stuff that comes with those two, really.” He smiled softly. “I mean, I also learned how to do other stuff that you do down on the ground, but I just want to … be up there, you know?”

“I know how you feel, _mon ami_ ,” a new voice in a thick strong accent cut in.

Two figures stood outside the small door. Upon entering, Alexander realized that the one who had spoken was Lafayette. The other one was a muscular man with broad shoulders. Hercules, Alex remembered. The guy had lifted up a bench with three people sitting on it during the show. Alex really didn’t want to get on his bad side.

“Laf, Herc! Come in and grab a beer.” John grinned at them, shuffling further into the corner seat.

The two newcomers did just that and sat down. Hercules took the seat next to John, while Lafayette sat down next to Alex. There wasn’t nearly enough space for four adults, but somehow, with a lot of pushing and shuffling, it worked (resulting in Alex being sandwiched by Lafayette and John).

(Not that he was complaining.)

“Alright, spill. Who are you and how did you get past Martha?” Hercules took a long sip of beer, sighting happily afterwards.

Alex frowned. “Martha?”

“Washington’s wife,” John provided. “She’s the one who sells the tickets and makes sure that every visitor leaves after the show.”

“She’s super nice and really cool to be around, but …” Lafayette drifted off, biting their lip.

“She’s scary.”

“Super scary.”

“Don’t ever get on her bad side.”

“She can destroy you.”

Realization dawned upon Alexander. “Oh! She must be the nice lady who told me where to find Mr. Washington!” Noticing the puzzled faces of the other three, he explained it to them. “She stood next to the exit, and when I asked her where to find him, she wanted to know why I was asking. I told her that I was going to join The Revolution and become the most famous trapeze artist. She smiled at me in this really soft gentle way, you know? And then showed me where to go.”

Lafayette started to laugh. “Of course she would.”

“The General got betrayed. By his own wife.”

Alex laughed with them, joking around and getting to know them. It was really nice to meet people who were obviously so happy to be here. Back in the academy, the atmosphere was often forced, with too much competition going on. But Alex had always known that he did not belong in some theatre circus production, but in one that would move around. A stage that would come to people who couldn’t afford to travel somewhere, just to have a bit of fun. This was where Alex belonged, he just knew it. He had to make this work. He had to make it through the training tomorrow and make sure that it wouldn’t be his last one here.

 

*

 

**CHILDREN OF LIBERTY**

**freckles** : ohmygod guys he’s so cute!!!!

 **frenchfry** : right??? Like, look at him, he so tiny!!!!!

 **freckles** : ikr!!!!

 **freckles** : can we adopt him?

 **frenchfry** : only if I can name him!

 **hulkules** : laf, john, no

 **frenchfry** : laf, john, yes

 **freckles** : what they said

 **freckles** : laf, john, yes

 **hulkules** : you know it’s really rude to text while he’s talking right?

 **frenchfry** : he’s talking so much, how can he even produce so many words???

 **freckles** : no idea but he s perfect

 **freckles** : perfect trapeze boi

 **hulkules** : we don’t even know if he is good

 **hulkules** : but tbh, I just want to make cute trapeze costumes for him and watch him fly

 **hulkules** : like a kitten that you throw into the air

 **frenchfry** : omg

 **frenchfry** : I totally see it

 **freckles** : that’s it. it's canon, guys. he s the 4th son of liberty

 **hulkules** : *3rd son, 4th child

 **frenchfry** : omg herc ilu so much <3

 **hulkules** : !!!!!

 

“You’re texting each other, right?”

“What?!” Lafayette looked up from their phone, throwing it to the other side of the room. “I’m not texting! You are texting!”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Sure. What are you talking about?”

“Nothing! Just how cool Herc is.” They took a look at John and Hercules, noticing how guilty the two of them looked.

Alex frowned at them. “Wait a moment. You are talking about me!”

Pure terror was written across John’s face, his eyes looking at Lafayette and practically screaming, ‘ _Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap_ ’.

“You’re right,” Hercules said, making everyone look at him. “But nothing bad, I swear. We just said how glad we would be if you joined the circus.”

A smile broke out on Alexander’s face. “Really?”

“Of course.” John smiled reassuring, the panic on his face replaced by relieve. “You’re a cool guy. You would fit into our group.”

“Thanks, all of you.” Alexander actually teared up a bit at that. He had never expected to be so welcomed by the people here. He was still overwhelmed by all the friendly faces around him. “It means a lot.”

“Aaaaww… _Mon petit_ is so cute!”, Lafayette squealed.

Alex blushed furiously. “I am not cute!”

“But it could be your stage name!”, John cut in. “It fits, you know?”

“You’re not so tall yourself,” Alex grumbled.

John laughed. “Right, but not as small as you are. I am totally average size. And a stage name would be really cool for you.”

“It would be! Look at me. How cool is Hercules, huh? A muscle man called Hercules? Like the Greek demigod that was also super strong? Ring a bell?” Hercules had jumped up at this point, flexing his arms and showing off.

Alexander looked at him in shock. “You mean, your real name isn’t Hercules?”

Lafayette started to giggle, while John had a huge grin on his face.

“You really thought my parents would name me Hercules?” The broad man blushed a bit. “I took on the name when I first started to work for a circus.”

“Then what’s your real name?” Alexander was bouncing from excitement by now.

John and Lafayette couldn’t help themselves as they started to laugh uncontrollably. Hercules blushed and looked away, fidgeting a bit. “It’s not important. Hercules or Herc is fine. I haven’t used my name in a looong time, and I don’t plan on changing that.”

“Hugh!”, Lafayette burst out. “His name is Hugh!”

“What? But that sounds like … a typical 40-year-old white dude who works in a boring company.” Alexander looked shocked, but slowly, he also started to grin.

Herc let himself fall back in his seat, nearly crushing John in the process. “I know. So please don’t call me that. Let me live, man.”

Alex chuckled a little bit, and Lafayette thought they just saw John die a bit from the sound of Alexander’s laughter. “Alright, Herc. I’ll try. But no promises made.”

 

*

 

**CHILDREN OF LIBERTY**

**hulkules** : I will kill you laf

 **frenchfry** : love you toooo hugh <3

 **hulkules** : >:(

 **hulkules** : (lowkey hurt you sold me out)

 **hulkules** : (but still, <33333)

 **frenchfry** : :-*

 **freckles** : gay

 **freckles** : ;) <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything against people called Hugh ;) hope I didn't offend anyone <3


	3. Chapter 3

_One foot in front of the other. Stand still. Breathe. Put your weight on your right foot. Lift your left leg. Balance. Head high. Stretch your leg. Arabesque. Hold. Turn around. Bend your right knee. Jump. Land on the left foot. Hands on the rope. Your feet leave the rope. Look down, smile at the audience._

Lafayette smiled a brilliant smile as they stood on their hands, high up in the air, on the tightrope. The safety net under them obstructed their view a bit, but they could see the others warming up down on the ground. Eliza and Angelica helped each other stretch, Eliza sitting on the ground with her legs stretched apart, while Angelica pushed her upper body forwards until it touched the ground. Maria was standing nearby, her leg resting on a high bar so that her foot was over her head. She was chatting with Theodosia, who jumped up and down in front of her in order to warm up her muscles. Meanwhile, John was already throwing knifes at a target, and Hercules was doing pushups. Aaron just entered the tent at this very moment, holding a pony with a little girl – Theo – sitting on it.

Laf gracefully ended their handstand, coming back to their feet and doing a big jump, doing a full turn while they were in the air. They managed to land on their right foot, but they had put a bit too much force into their jump, loosing their balance and falling to the side.

They landed in the safety net with a soft squeal, looking up to see the rope swinging a little bit. They really had to practice controlling the momentum of their turn more, or else they would never be able to show this jump to the audience.

“You need a hand?”, they suddenly heard Alex’ voice. They looked to the side, where Alexander was standing on the platform by the net, offering his hand to help Lafayette crawl out.

They gladly accepted the help, pouting a bit. “ _Merde_ , how is this so hard? I know how to do this, but somehow, my body won’t do what I want it to do.”

Alexander looked up to the rope for a bit. “Did you try to do it here on the ground? It is basically just a ballet jump, right?”

“Well … Yes, I guess. Except for the fact that you fall if you land even a millimeter off.”

Alex took their hand and dragged them down the steps to the ground. “Then don’t land a millimeter off. I noticed that, when I’m doing jumps on the trapeze, I never catch it when I’m focusing on _where_ to catch it. So I just focus on turning, spinning, whatever, and I trust that my timing must be right so that the trapeze will simply be _there_ when I grab it.” He took in the position that Lafayette had right before the jump. “Just focus on spinning around your own axis without using too much or too little momentum. You don’t want to keep turning once you’ve landed, or else you’ll fall.”

Then, Alexander jumped forward, spinning around his axis one time, and landed on his other foot.

Lafayette stared. “You can do … ballet?”

“I did it for some time, but I was kicked out because I improvised too much.” The short man laughed sheepishly. “Whoops, I guess?”

“That sounds like you.” Lafayette couldn’t help but smile. “So, let me try it.” They took their position, focusing on a point straight ahead, and jumped.

It worked much better this time, the landing was much easier, but Lafayette could tell that it would have been way off, had he been up in the air. Still, it was something.

“Huh. You’re right. It was easier.” They turned around and smiled at Alexander. “Thank you. I guess I’ll stay down here for a while.”

“Sure, no problem. So, do you guys have a trapeze or loop or anything? Or even just a rope that I can fix somewhere up there?”

James Madison took this moment to enter the conversation. The short man was George’s assistant, and he took care of most of the things that needed to be organized. “You must be Alexander Hamilton.” He offered his hand to Alex. “James Madison, I am the assistant director.”

Alex grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you. Wow, you’re even shorter than I am. That’s amazing!”

Lafayette could barely hold in their laughter as they saw James’ eye twitch in annoyance. “I won’t even respond to this.” He ignored Alexander’s objection (“You already answered by not answering it!”) and continued as though nothing had happened. “I prepared a loop for you to perform with. You can follow me.” He then led Alex away to a ladder that led up to a higher platform.

Lafayette tore their eyes away from the two, focusing on their jumps again. Every now and then, they would do some other jumps, pirouettes, or flips to break the routine, but overall, they were surprisingly good at keeping their concentration today.

After some time, they noticed that something felt off. They finished their jump and then stood up straight, looking around. The atmosphere had completely changed. Everyone had stopped doing their separate exercises, looking up into the air, awe filling their faces. Lafayette followed their gazes and drew in a breath.

Up there, high in the air, was Alex. He was sitting inside the dangling loop, making it swing back and forth with the help of his legs. His arms were gracefully holding on to the loop, a completely calm expression evident on his face. He was smiling slightly, and when the loop had enough momentum that it swung by itself, Alex let himself slip down until he held himself up with his arms only. His body dangled from it, his arms wrapped around the silver metal, while his legs moved into a beautiful position – almost like a ballet position. He let himself move with the loop for a moment, then, he let his legs fall down to gather a momentum, and suddenly lifted himself up, turning upside down, and hooking the legs into the loop. He released the loop from his arms, wrapping one hand around it and stretching his body so that it was bend forwards, creating a C-shaped position.

It was beautiful to watch him up there. Lafayette couldn’t help but stare. But, as it seemed, the same thing could be said for everyone else. The atmosphere was still completely calm, a sense of energy that made everything buzz but stay still at the same time. _He really is flying_.

When Washington walked through the tent entrance, the spell was broken. ‘How long had he been standing there?’, Lafayette wondered. When the director raised his voice, everything seemed to freeze in anticipation (except for Alexander, who had obviously not noticed the General entering).

“You’re on board, Hamilton,” he said in a deep voice. “Come to my caravan after the training.” And with that, he was gone.

Alexander froze, hanging inside the loop upside down. He was staring at the entrance before looking down to the other artists, who were mostly staring up at him in awe. John broke into a grin, giving him a thumb up, and Hercules started clapping.

Alexander suddenly squealed in joy and let himself sack down so that he was hanging onto the loop with his feet only. “Fuck yeah!”, he screamed, stretching out his arms and making peace signs with his two hands. “I’m gonna rock The Revolution, bitch please!”

“Aaron!”, Theodosia squealed, while Aaron was already covering little Theo’s ears with his hands.

Lafayette couldn’t help themself. They burst out laughing, letting themself fall to the ground and staring up at Alexander. If they had ever seen anyone fly, it was that boy up there.

 

*

 

“Raise a glass to freedom!” John held the glass up high, looking at his friends. (He had done the dishes especially for this occasion; normally, it was a rare sight to see him use his glasses.)

Alexander laughed and raised his glass as well. “Something they can never take away.”

“No matter what they tell you …” Hercules wrapped his arm around Lafayette, grinning at them.

The French artist simply smiled. “Let’s have another round tonight.”

“Raise a glass to the four of us.” When John looked at Alex, he saw the man tearing up. It was endearing to see him display such strong emotions. “Tomorrow there’ll be more of us.”

Alexander couldn’t help the strangled sob that escaped his lips. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he was still smiling brightly. “Telling the story of tonight.”

 

*

 

**CHILDREN OF LIBERTY**

**_freckles_ ** _added **adotham** to this chat_

**adotham** : !!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**CHILDREN OF LIBERTY**

**freckles** : alexxxxx!!!!!

**adotham** : ?????

**freckles** : u excited for tonight?

**hulkules** : oh right it’s ur first show tonight! so exciting

**frenchfry** : rt

**frenchfry** : they grow up so fast

**frenchfry** : one day he was a smol bean

**frenchfry** : now he is a smol bean that performs with us

**freckles** : smol boi

**adotham** : I am??? actually hurt guys????

**adotham** : it’s not like my existence consists of smallness???

**frenchfry** : Smolness™

**adotham** : guys

**adotham** : please

**adotham** : I’m actually quite nervous tbh

**hulkules** : it’s gonna be fine

**hulkules** : what’s the worst thing that could happen?

**adotham** : I could fall and make a fool of myself

**hulkules** : …true, but that won’t happen. you're gonna be great

**freckles** : alex, get ready, we’re going practicing so that you stop panicking

**adotham** : !!! thank you!!!

**freckles** : you have 1min, I’m counting

 

*

 

Alexander looked down on himself, smiling at the costume Hercules had made for him. It was a tight dark blue body with some lighter swirls on it. His arms and legs were covered in semi-transparent clothes, and the whole thing was dotted with white sprinkles that looked like stars. He wore his hair up in a tight bun, and the make up that Lafayette had put on him made him look stunning.

(Alex had almost not recognized himself upon seeing his face in the mirror.)

Now, his heart was beating with anxiety that made it hard to breathe. He had never performed in front of such a huge audience. What if he made a fool of himself? Washington would surely throw him out of The Revolution if that happened. The General, as the other artists secretly called him, surely didn’t need a rude immigrant artist that was a bundle of nerves and embarrassed everyone during the show. Then he would be without a job again, again with no chance to fly. Alex didn’t know if he could take that.

He jumped when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Turning around, he recognized Eliza, one of the Schuyler sisters. She was part of the infamous Schuyler trampoline duo and had already won multiple prizes together with her sister Angelica. “Sure,” he said quickly, cursing himself for the way his voice trembled. “Just … a bit nervous, you know?”

“You’re going to be fine.” She smiled at him, her whole appearance calm and collected. “It is not your first time performing in front of an audience, after all, and you were always so perfect during the training sessions.”

“Actually …” Alexander looked down to the ground. “It is my first time in front of such an audience.”

Eliza looked puzzled for a second. “What? But after you graduated, did you not have your stage debut at the Academy Circus?”

Damn it. He shouldn’t have let his mouth run again. “Well … About that … I didn’t graduate.” He laughed nervously. “I mean, I was at the New York Academy, alright, but I got … kinda … kicked out a month before graduation?”

“Oh my god, how? And why? Come here, honey, you must be fricking scared.” She pulled him into her arms and patted his back gently.

Alex stood frozen for a few seconds. He didn’t understand it. Everyone here was so nice to him. Even though he had just confessed to her that he had lied to get this job (well, not really lied – he had never said that had graduated, just that he had gotten a scholarship, and that part was totally true), and still, she was worried about his well-being.

“Eliza? We have to get ready. Peggy’s number is almost over.”

Eliza let go of him and turned around to see Angelica standing there. She smiled softly. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

“Alright. But hurry, yeah?” Angelica gave Alex a disapproving scowl before turning around and walking away.

“Sorry for her.” Eliza took his hand and smiled reassuringly. “She is just worried about me. Probably saw us hug and thought that you wanted to hit on me.”

“Oh … But you and Maria …”

“I know. We’ve been together for a while now, and you’d think that Angie would get over her fear of any guy hitting on me, but … Well, big sisters.” She shrugged. “I have to go now. Are you going to be fine?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes, I think so.”

“Great. I look forward to seeing your performance.” She beamed at him. “Make us proud!” With that, she jumped away and caught up with her sister.

It was going to be fine, Alex told himself. He bent forward and put his hands on the ground, lifting his feet into the air. He stood like this for some minutes, trying to calm himself down. He heard Washington announce the performance of the Schuyler duo, and the crowd went wild.

Alex let his mind wander. All the things that could go wrong started crashing down on him again, and his heart began to beat faster again. Shit, he couldn’t do this, he had to get out, he could not go out there, he wanted to fly, but what if he fell and everyone would see, he couldn’t-

“You are going to be fine, son.”

With a start, Alexander began to swing back and forth, loosing his balance. He almost fell, but somehow managed to land on his feet instead, quickly standing up. Washington stood in front of him, but he was already facing away again.

Alexander felt tears well up in his eyes. If Washington was sure that he could do it, how could he not believe it? After all, the man wouldn’t have let him join The Revolution otherwise, now, would he?

He felt a weird calm wash over him, all his worries gone in an instant. Alexander felt a smile creep onto his face, and he chuckled. “Don’t call me son.”

 

*

 

“Mon petit, you were amazing!” Lafayette took his face into his hands and kissed him on both cheeks. They smiled brightly at him. “The audience loved you.”

Alexander laughed. “It was amazing. I never thought that I-“ His sentence was interrupted when he was suddenly lifted up into the air, which resulted in him releasing a high-pitched squeal. “Herc! Let me down!”

“No chance,” the muscle man said. He easily sat Alexander down on one of his shoulders. “We are going to celebrate your first show. You are now officially a member of The Revolution.”

Alex blushed a bit, but he couldn’t help the happiness that flooded his chest. When he thought about it, he would have never imagined coming this far. Born as the son of a drunk and a prostitute, he had never seen a chance to become anything else than an outcast. He remembered the day that the circus had arrived in his town. He had sneaked into the tent after the performance had already started, watching in awe as people were flying through the air, jumping through rings of fire, making daring stunts on horses, dancing until the audience was wild and out of breath.

After that day, he knew what kind auf outcast he wanted to become. It was a dream that never left him. Flying through the air and bringing a smile to the people who needed it most. He had started practicing stunts in the backyard – walking on his hands, doing a full split, juggling. He went to the market place every day after school to perform, earning some money to help his parents out. When his father left, he went there more often, starting to skip school and spending whole days there, doing tricks and earning a few pennies for it. When he and his mother got sick, it wasn’t enough. The money that they had put to the side was only enough for one set of medicine. Alex hadn’t understood it at that time. Only when he woke up one morning and his mother didn’t, did he realize that she had not taken anything to make her feel better.

Alexander dropped out of school, performing at the market place every day from dawn to sunset. He earned enough to keep him going, enough to pay for food (although barely). He took ballet lessons every Thursday morning, paying it by selling his mother’s jewelry. He was kicked out after a year because he had run his mouth again, talking back to the teacher when she called his mother a whore. When the hurricane came and brought nothing but devastation, he still went to where the market place had been, walking on his hands, doing somersaults, juggling, jumping, dancing. A journalist caught sight of him and wrote an article in an American paper. Before he could realize what was happening, he was already on a ship to New York, with a scholarship to the Circus Academy in his pocket.

And now, today, this was what he had been fighting for. Performing in front of an audience, seeing the children smile at him, hearing the adults gasp when he made a particularly daring stunt. This was it. He was finally where he wanted to be.

When Hercules set him down in front of his and John’s caravan, John already waiting for them with a colorful cake and four bottles of beer, Alex couldn’t help himself but wrap his arms around the freckled man in front of him.

That night, he cried of relieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: our favorite Magenta Guy ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for leaving kudos, comments, bookmarks and so on <3 y'all make me so happy! And I want to apologize for not answering to most of the comments ... I am just really socially awkward and, most of the time, have no idea what to answer to your lovely messages, but that doesn't mean I appreciate them any less. Actually, they make me happier than anything else.
> 
> And now, without further wait ... have fun with the chapter :)

“Mister Hamilton, what are you writing?”

“Wah!” Alexander jumped up with a shriek, throwing his notebook out of his hands, before turning around. In front of him, a small girl with dark skin, short curly hair and a missing tooth smiled up at him brightly. “Oh, it’s you, Theo.”

“Of course it is me. How should I be anyone but me?” She climbed up the fence he had been sitting on before she had appeared. “Come, sit with me and show me what you’re writing.”

He watched her for a moment before sighing. When he sat down next to her, she put her small hand around his arm, as if to steady him. “So?” She smiled sweetly. “Show me?”

Reluctantly, he flipped the notebook back open to show her the pages he had been scribbling on. “I am writing down some things that we could perform.” The writings were cramped and messy, things scratched out and written over, with small figures performing the stunts he had described drawn next to them.

Theo hummed as she bent over the notes. “Is that mommy?”, she asked, pointing to a stick figure on a horse.

Alex nodded. “And that’s your daddy. I thought they could maybe learn a new trick, you know? Or more like …” He thought for a moment.

Theo studied the paper, not pressuring him to talk, and simply waited patiently.

After a while, Alexander shrugged. “I guess it is part of a small story that we could all perform together.”

“A story?” She gasped dramatically. “What is it about?”

“Well, once upon a time …”

 

*

 

That night, every artist of the circus sat outside together after the performance. John had lit a fire in the middle of their circle, Lafayette had gone off to the supermarket nearby to buy some fresh bread, and Martha had persisted on cooking enough stew to feed the whole group for three days.

Alex laughed at a joke Hercules made, making himself comfortable at John’s side, who casually wrapped an arm around Alexander’s waist. Lafayette gave the two a knowing smirk, to which they both rolled their eyes. It had been 6 weeks since Alex had joined The Revolution, and while him and John had drifted closer and closer to each other, they had also established that a relationship was something neither of them wanted at the moment.

Light conversations filled the air, and Alexander closed his eyes with a content sigh, letting himself be washed away by the gentle summer night, surrounded by his friends.

He only opened his eyes again when he heard his name spoken in a high-pitched voice.

“Mister Hamilton told me a story today, daddy!”

“Oh?” When Alex looked over to the small family, Aaron had picked up Theo and helped her to get comfortable on his lap, while at the same time shooting the immigrant a sharp glance. “What about?”

“It was about a beautiful princess and a handsome prince, and then, a dragon stole the princess away, and the prince had to fight to get her back to him, and many people helped him find her, and you know what’s the coolest? He wants us all to perform it with cool circus tricks!”

Her excitement had caused most of the adults to drop their respective conversations so that they could listen to her, and when she said the last part, everyone turned towards Alex. He could feel his face getting hot and was unbelievable thankful for the darkness of the night.

“Really?” George Washington raised an eyebrow, shooting Alex a questioning glance. “He told you that?”

She nodded, making her curls bounce up and down. “He told me that mommy could play the princess, and daddy could be the prince, and someone had to be the dragon but he wasn’t sure who could be that, and everyone else had to help bring mommy and daddy together again.”

Alexander’s face was practically burning by now, and he buried it in his hands with a groan. “That was supposed to be a secret, Theo.”

“Did you tell her to keep it a secret?”, Aaron asked.

Alex faltered a bit. “Well, not really, but-“

“Then you did nothing wrong, sweetie.” He kissed his daughter’s head, smiling softly at his wife.

John chuckled and pulled Alexander tighter to himself. “No need to be embarrassed. I think it’s a cute idea.”

“It is!” Lafayette grinned enthusiastically. “Maybe we could play it. It would need some more thought, of course, but if George would be up for it?”

Everyone turned towards the circus director, who just narrowed his eyes slightly. “I will give it some thought.” And with that, the topic was dropped.

 

*

 

At the same time, on the other side of the world, a tall man with a curly afro and dark skin just finished his daily morning routine. He left his apartment, messenger bag slumped over his shoulder, and crossed the street before entering his favorite café. He still had two hours before lessons began, but he liked to use that time in the early morning to watch the city wake up.

He went up to the counter, ordered a tall cappuccino and a croissant, and sat down at a table next to a window. Sighing softly, he took out his laptop, connected it to the wireless internet the café offered, and opened his emails. There were a few by some of his students. One had to come in late today because of a doctor’s appointment, another one wanted him to write down some more tips for warming up before his sessions. Huh. He would probably prepare a handout for all his students with some exercises they could do. You would think that after three months, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore, but obviously, he was wrong again.

He typed back an answer on how he was going to give out the handouts the following week, struggling with a word or two (seriously though, who even invented French spelling?), before he continued to click through his new mails.

Suddenly, one caught his eyes. It was from a very familiar address, yet, he hadn’t received a mail from this particular person in a long time. Curiously, he opened it, feeling a mixture of dread, confusion, surprise, and joy flood him.

 

_**To** : tjeff _

_**From** : j.madison _

_**Subject** : The Revolution_

_Dear Thomas._

_I haven’t heard of you in a long time; you did not answer to my two previous emails. How have you been? I sincerely hope you are okay. I read that you decided to stay at the Circus Academy in Paris for another year. Do you still find joy in teaching, or do you want to come back and actually perform again?_

_A lot has happened since you last answered to my emails. The biggest change, however, is a new member that joined The Revolution 6 weeks ago. He has been performing with us for a month now, and he brought new ideas and a fresh motivation with him. I think he would inspire you. He’s the kind of person you want to perform with (and if not with, then against). Lafayette is fine, by the way. I think that they finally committed to their feelings for Hercules (although I cannot really look into both of their heads, now can I? That is more your thing.), and little Theo is so tall, you probably wouldn’t even recognize her anymore. She looks exactly like her mother, though, so you would still know it was her if you met her. She has lost a tooth. It looks adorable, you should really see it. (Another reason for you to come back, maybe?)_

_Even if you don’t want to join The Revolution again, maybe you could still come to the U.S. and watch everyone perform? The circus gets better and better, and as I already mentioned, I think that Alexander Hamilton (the new guy) would inspire you._

_I hope to see you soon, and hear from you even sooner._

_James._

_P.S.: Did I mention that Hamilton is a trapeze artist? (He reminds me of you when you were younger.)_

 

Closing his eyes for a second, Thomas fought down the urge to simply delete the email, destroying all evidence of his closest friend’s proposal for him to go back there. He wanted to do that. He really did. It was easy to be here in Paris, far away from everything that had happened back then, back when he-

No. He didn’t need to think about that now. Sighing, he closed his emails and finished his coffee. He had to get going. He would miss his lessons, otherwise.

He left the café and bit his lip thoughtfully. There was still time to respond to James’ mail later, after school had ended. He let his thoughts drift, soon leaving the topic of classes and wandering back to the mail.

_Huh. A new trapeze artist called Hamilton._

…

He suddenly felt an excitement that he hadn’t felt in years blooming in his chest. A small grin split up his face.

_Alexander Hamilton, huh?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they meet.

Alex jumped down the last few steps of the ladder, laughing and waving at the audience, before he moved towards the center of the manege, did a flip, landed gracefully on his two feet and bowed deeply. The audience cheered for him as he bowed again, waving one final time and running back offstage.

He jumped into John’s arms, who pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “Beautiful as always. The people loved it.”

“Thanks!”, Alex laughed, hugging his best friend back. “Now there’s just Angie and Eliza left. And I don’t know about you, but I’d totally be up for a round of drinks afterwards.”

While he had been talking, Lafayette and Hercules had walked towards them. Lafayette leaned back against the tall man, who wrapped his arms around their waist. “Excellent performance, and good idea, _mon petit_.”

“Not small,” Alex responded out of reflex, but with no bite behind it. He secretly enjoyed the nicknames that his friends gave him, even if he would never admit it out loud. But they meant a lot to him. Simply the fact that he had friends who were close enough to give him nicknames … It made Alexander’s chest ache in the best possible way. “Now, someone help me stretch.”

“I can do that,” Hercules offered, gesturing for Alex to sit down on the ground.

Alex did just that, stretching his legs out in front of him, and stretched his arms until he could wrap his hands around his feet. Then, he felt Herc’s big hands pressing down on his shoulder blades to make him stretch even further.

Alexander could hear the crowd going wild again, and when the Schuyler duo came back to the group of artists with bright smiles on their faces, he figured that everything had gone well enough.

The General said his goodbyes to the audience, and everything proceeded to stretch out and put away their things backstage. Suddenly, Alex could hear loud laughter coming from the back entrance of the tent. He then heard James Madison’s voice, although he couldn’t quite make out what the man had said, before the tent entrance was pulled open and an enormously tall man entered.

Alexander frowned in confusion. The man looked almost like Lafayette. Maybe he was a bit more muscular, and he wore his hair down instead of Lafayette’s trademark bun … And he had a sharply trimmed beard that looked far too perfect to be considered fair. But besides that, the two looked really alike. Who was that guy?

Obviously, Lafayette knew. They jumped up with a high squeal, running over to the magenta clothed man (really? Who even wore such an obnoxious shade of magenta?) and wrapped their arms and legs around him. Magenta Guy, as Alex called him in his head, swung slightly before regaining his balance, wrapped his arms around Laf and laughed softly, muttering something in French. Maybe he was a relative?

But then, the others started to move towards him. Aaron and Theodosia both gave him smiles (polite on Aaron’s part, welcoming on Theodosia’s), the two younger Schuyler sisters said enthusiastic hello’s, Maria waving at him gently, and Angelica glared at him, growling a deep “Jefferson” before breaking into a grin and punching him into his arm.

At this, Magenta Guy (who, by the way, had a ridiculously fluffy ball of hair on his head that was now bouncing up and down) sat Lafayette down gently, laughing an easy smile and looking into all the faces around him.

“Who’s that?”, Alex whispered to Hercules, who had stopped pushing his shoulders down when Magenta Guy had entered.

Hercules bit his lip. “Not sure, but I think that’s Thomas Jefferson?”

“You mean _the_ Thomas Jefferson, who helped The Revolution become independent?”, Alex gasped.

John, meanwhile, was glaring at the man in suspicion. “Yup, that’s him.”

“Wow … I heard he went to France to teach at some famous Circus Academy.” Alexander eyed Jefferson, his face awe-filled. He had read much about that man on some website. The articles all wrote about how beautiful his performances were, breathtaking, innovative, something entirely different. According to the website, Jefferson had been part of The Revolution when it still was a member of the Circus of Britannia, and when the head of said circus group wanted to close the small troop, Jefferson had written some form of open letter, the so-called _Declaration of Independence_ , to which Washington had received a lot of donations so that he could keep their group together. And as such, The Revolution was born. “I’ve always wanted to see him perform.”

“Tough luck,” John grumbled. “He doesn’t really do that anymore, from what I’ve heard.”

“Why? Well, who cares? I’ve gotta meet him.”

Alex started to move towards Jefferson with determination set across his face, but just then, the General entered the backstage area, and everyone went still.

Washington blinked, surprise clearly evident on his face. Jefferson smiled easily, a picture of clear confidence, and waved – a tad bit awkwardly.

“Thomas,” the General greeted him. Then, he moved towards the tall man, grabbing his hand and shaking it heartily. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you. It’s good to be here, although ‘Welcome home’ might be a bit rash.” He laughed, and Alex was suddenly annoyed by how perfect that laughter sounded. “I’ve seen your show tonight. I have to admit: It was good work.”

“Surely not what you are used to after your time in Paris, but I would say that the group has really grown together.” There was a glimmer of pride lightening up George’s eyes.

Alexander frowned. Why should they be any worse than the artists in Paris? That was stupid and, quite frankly, just rude. Some artists here were among the best in the world. They worked hard for everything they had achieved, and to be talked down just to impress some … some … _intruder_ was inexcusable.

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. “I never said that you were worse than the artists in Paris.” He was staring at Alexander, who blinked in confusion.

Huh? Wait a minute, did he say that out loud?

“Alexander Hamilton, right?” Jefferson took a few long steps towards him and stopped directly in front of him. It was unfair how tall that guy was. Seriously, why could he tower over him so much? Alex had to put his head back to even see his face, and when he did, he was met with a sneer. “You are the newcomer. Jemmy told me about you.”

“Jemmy …?”, he repeated confused and (although he would deny this to the day he died) a little bit intimidated

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “James Madison. He told me that you had come here, all but _demanding_ to join The Revolution …” He crossed his arms. “And somehow, you managed to sneak your way in.”

Alexander gasped. “I didn’t _sneak_ my way in, I earned my spot here!”

The sneer slowly moved into a smirk. “Your body tension was practically non-existent. You did some cute tricks up there, I’ll admit that, and you bring passion into it. But passion alone is not enough to make up for your lack of skill.”

Struggling for words, Alex angrily pushed Jefferson away from him. “Is that so? As if you were so much better, you arrogant, pompous bastard! Running off to Paris and hiding behind a teacher’s desk? What true artist even _does_ that?” He crossed his arms. “From what I see, you’re nothing more than an old man resting on long-forgotten laurels.”

He heard a desperate sigh behind him. “Alex …” Lafayette took a step in his direction, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t.”

The short immigrant pushed off the hand and shot his friend a sharp look. “This is between him and me.”

Something in Jefferson’s face shifted for a second, an expression that Alex did not understand crossing it, but it was gone so quickly that the younger man thought he must have imagined it. “You could never compete to me.”

“Then prove it.”

Blinking, Jefferson stared at him, his cool expression completely unsettled. “What?”

“Prove it to me.” Alex had no idea where the idea had come from, but suddenly he was filled with the wish to prove himself to this arrogant, rude, unfairly beautiful man in front of him. All his year, he had to put up with people telling him that he was not good enough, that he had just earned his spot at the academy by being the charity case, and he was sick of it. He would no longer tolerate this.

Washington stepped in between them. “Alexander, I think this is eno-“

“What do you have in mind?”, Jefferson interjected.

Alex rolled his eyes at him. “A competition. We both perform in front of the same audience. They decide who’s the better artist.”

“I like that idea,” someone – probably John – whispered, and Peggy whistled in excitement. The other artists started muttering among themselves, while Madison stepped up to his friend and whispered something into his ear. All the time, Alexander tensely waited for Jefferson’s answer.

Then, Jefferson took a step to the side, making Madison’s hand fall from his shoulder, and sneered at Alex.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming: Magenta Guy  
> Also, who needs Cabinet Battles when you can have Trapeze Battles?


	7. Chapter 7

“Thomas, what were you thinking?” James shut the caravan door behind him and moved to the small kitchen counter, shaking his head all the way there. He began shuffling through the counter. “You can’t just let him bait you up like that. Hamilton is a wild card. How could you be so stupid?”

“Please,” Thomas sighed, letting himself fall down in one of the chairs at the small table. “I could beat him any day. He’s nothing more than a puppy with some fancy tricks.”

James turned around, placed two empty wine glasses on the table, then grabbed a bottle of red wine and sat down opposite of his friend. “You still shouldn’t have let him pressure you into performing. Are you sure you are not …” He bit his lip, not finishing the sentence.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Out of shape? Positive. I can still perform if I want to.”

“But you haven’t done this in, what? Four years?”

Lowering his eyes, Jefferson watched as his friend purred some of the dark liquid into his glass. He swallowed to stop his throat from closing up. “Four years, two months and sixteen days. Ever since …”

A tense silence engulfed between the two of them. Finally, James set down the bottle. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s fine.” Thomas took one of the glasses, swinging it softly to watch the liquid move inside of it.

James cleared his throat. “If you ever need someone to listen …”

“No,” he was promptly interrupted. There was nothing more for a few seconds, then … “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” The smaller man picked up his own glass, holding it out to his friend and clinking them together. “So, why did you decide to take up Hamilton’s challenge?”

Thomas shrugged. “It sounded interesting, I guess. Something about him irritates me. I want to wipe that smug look from his face.”

“I totally get that, believe me.” They shared a playful grin before James continued. “But have you even been practicing throughout these years?”

Taking a sip from the wine and rolling it around in his mouth, Thomas took the time to avert his eyes and think about the question. Then, slowly, he started talking again. “I … practiced. I did my usual stretching and strength training programs every day, and I used the practice swing that we also used for classes.”

“You mean one of those trapezes that swing, like, two meters above the ground?”, his friend questioned.

“Yes. Well, I could not really practice any serious jumps there, and I did only solo practice, so …” He drifted off, sneaking an anxious look at James.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the man shook his head. “So you haven’t been on a high trapeze in _years_ , yet alone practiced with a partner, but you just accepted an invitation to a competition on a high swing, in front of an audience, together with _Hamilton_ of all people … just on a whim. How did you ever _think_ that could count as a good idea?”

“Well, if you say it like this …” Thomas shrugged awkwardly. Then he smiled. “It will be fine, Jemmy. Laf already promised that they’d go up to the platform with me tomorrow. I won’t be alone up there, it will be fine. Also, there is the safety net, remember?”

James sighed, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “Well, if you say so … Alright.” He took a large sip from his glass.

“Good. Now, tell me how everyone’s been doing. I want to be up to date. I’m gonna start my training early at dawn, so tell me everything that’s been going on.” Thomas grinned excitedly. “If it takes all night long to get to the bottom of this.”

And then they talked.

 

*

 

“Alex, what were you thinking?”, Lafayette asked as they stormed in after Alexander.

John shuffled in behind them and Hercules, shut the caravan door behind him and moved to the small kitchen counter, shuffling through it and pulling out four cans of beer.

Lafayette shook their head and pressed their eyes shut. “You can’t just bait him up like that. Thomas is a force to be reckoned with. How could you be so stupid?”

“I think it was pretty cool,” John said, winking at Alex and handing him the can.

The small man nodded thankfully and opened it up with a sigh. “I just couldn’t let him stay there like that. I mean, did you see him? He was so pompous, obnoxious, arrogant … What is he even doing here? Doesn’t he have, like, classes to teach?”

“Oh Alex …” Laf let themself fall down next to his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You did not even give him a chance. Yes, Thomas might seem a little harsh and arrogant, but he is a very dear friend of mine.”

“How did you even meet him?”, Hercules asked, taking a gulp of his beer.

A small smile crept onto Lafayette’s face. “It was years ago. I was still very young back then, barely 14 years old … I was able to attend a circus workshop here in the states. That was down in Virginia. The workshop, or camp, however you’d like to call it, lasted for 2 months, and I was the youngest to attend.” They chuckled softly. “So I walked into the room where I was supposed to stay, nervous beyond words, and not knowing a single word in English. And there was Thomas.” They sighed, an air of nostalgia flowing from them. “He was 18 years old, I think. We had this metal bar that went across the room, so that we could to strength training and so on, and he was just hanging from it upside down, his curls messy, and he was reading some stupid space magazine.”

“What a nerd …”, Alexander grumbled.

“Oh yes. But he was a cute nerd, and he looked at me with his upside-down grin, waved at me and started talking to me in French. Later on, I found out that he had heard of a French kid coming to the workshop and asked to share the room with me, so that he could practice his French.” They laughed. “Really nerdy. He always did some weird tricks when we were in our room, never just relaxing, always sitting with his legs in a full split, jumping around, dancing, something like that. He taught me many things about handling heights, because I was really scared about that back then, while I taught him some ballet.”

John frowned. “How long ago was that? He sounds like a super energetic person, and I think he looked kinda lazy before.”

“Maybe he got old?” Alex crossed his arms. “I mean, he must be over forty by now, right?”

“Alexander, _mon ami_ , I am 25! Which means that Thomas is 29 years old. Don’t be cruel.” Lafayette shook their head and sighed in exasperation.

 Hercules reached over to pat Laf’s shoulder. “You’re not old, Laf.”

“I know,” they sighed. “Just … Do me a favor and give Thomas a chance?”

Alexander let himself drop down to the table, resting his face on the cold wood. “Fiiine, I’ll give him a chance. But I will still crush him in this stupid competition.” He looked up and grinned mischievously. “I am sure that he is super out of shape. I mean, I had to convince him to perform. What true artist needs to be convinced to perform?”

Lafayette scowled at him. “He has his reasons. I am going to sleep now. I promised to train with him tomorrow.” They stood up, shortly put a hand on Herc’s shoulder, and then walked out with a stormy expression.

Alexander swallowed. “Well, damn. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“You should talk to them tomorrow.” Hercules smiled at him and finished his drink. “Give them some time to cool down. I am not sure what happened back when Jefferson was still at the circus; I wasn’t here four years ago. But I don’t think the guy left without a reason, and Laf was really close to him back then, so try to be a bit careful with them.” He stood up and grinned at his two friends. “I’m going to sleep, too. Don’t beat yourself up too much about it, Alex. Laf will come around. And as for the competition …” He winked. “I’ll be cheering on your side.” With that, he left the caravan.

Alexander sighed deeply. “Wow, so that was …”

“Yeah …” John looked uncertain as to what to say to the whole situation, but Alexander always found at least _some_ words.

“Awkward.”

“Totally.”

“Wanna cuddle?”

“Sure.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peoples!  
> I have some Things to mention before this chapter starts, so please bare with me for a moment :)
> 
> \- First off, sorry for the late update! I had to work the whole day and didn't have access to my computer so far, but here you go ;)  
>  \- Second, I am NOT going to update this on Tuesday. This chapter is a bit longer than the other ones, and I really have to catch up on my writing so that I can still provide an update two times a week, so I'll have to take a break this week (and get away... run away with us for the summer, let's go upstate...)  
>  \- Third, I want to thank my two super loyal reviewers, spiderypool and AutumnLeaves03, who have reviewed on all my recent chapters and provided lovely feedback and support! Thank you so much :)  
>  \- Lastly, I am a little unsure about this chapter. I feel like it might be a bit OOC on Jefferson's part, but once the background story is revealed, I feel like it will make sense. Still, I'd be thankful for your thoughts on that.
> 
> And now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Thomas looked down the platform and swallowed. This was high. Higher than he had remembered it. He could see the safety net underneath him. It should fill him with reassurance, promise him that everything will be alright, but when he looked down, it almost vanished from his view. No, that wasn’t quite correct. He could definitely _see_ the safety net, but he did not convince himself that is was really _there_.

His vision started to turn gray around the edges as his breathing picked up. Clenching and unclenching his hands, he tried to stop them from shaking too badly, but to no avail. God, he couldn’t do this, he needed to get down, get out of here now, he wanted to go back to France, this was a horrible idea, he-

Lafayette’s hand came down on his shoulder, grounding him. The warmth of their skin seeped through his shirt, a comforting presence that made it so much easier to get back to reality. “Are you okay, mon ami?”

Thomas nodded and took a deep breath. “I am. Thanks.” He looked down the platform again and swallowed, hoping that it would somehow make his dry throat more bearable. “It’s just higher than it was in my memory.”

“If you want to go down and try again later …”

“No,” Thomas interrupted them. He smiled back at them over his shoulder. “If I go down now, I won’t go up again.”

Lafayette nodded, understanding clear on their face. “If you want me to, I can jump down. I mean, I can show you that the safety net works the way it should.”

Thomas took a moment to think about it, but then, he shook his head. “I would rather have you up here with me. Just … tell me how to do it?”

“Of course.” Laf gently guided him towards the trapeze that was fixed above the platform and took it into their hand. “For now, you could just stand on it. Swing back and forth, get familiar with being up in the air again. Just like you showed me back in Virginia.”

The older artist chuckled. “Who would have guessed that you would have to teach _me_ the trapeze one day, huh?” He grabbed the wood bar, positioned himself directly underneath it and took another deep breath. It was still very early, the sun barely up in the sky. Soft light shone through the fabric of the tent, but it was barely enough to lighten up their surroundings, so Lafayette had switched on some of the headlights. The other artists were not here yet, and Thomas was thankful that his friend had asked him to come here so early, avoiding the spectators during his first jumps.

Pushing back every negative feeling that was trying to numb his body, Thomas pushed himself off of the platform without looking down. With the force of his jump, he swung himself up so that he could wrap his legs around the bar, then pulled himself up. By the time he swung back towards Laf, he was already standing on top of the wooden bar, moving his body back and forth softly so as to not loose his momentum.

He could see the way Laf jumped into the air excitedly, smiling broadly at Thomas and cheering for him. Thomas chuckled softly. Laf had always been expressive.

He focused on his breathing, bringing his body in sync with the swinging, and began to pick up speed. When he was fast enough, he let himself hang down from the bar with his knee bends. This was easy. He just had to swing back and forth, nothing too hard, really. A few solo tricks, and he would beat Hamilton without even breaking a sweat.

He just hadn’t looked down yet. But that could wait. For now, he was practicing. He kept his breathing even, focusing on keeping a clear mind, no unwanted memories or unnecessary thoughts making their way into his consciousness, and he kept his eyes glazed over, not really seeing what was in front of him. He just focused on everything he was feeling with his body, letting his instincts take over.

At the end of a long practice choreography that he performed, he pulled himself up so that he was standing on the bar again. He smiled over at Lafayette, giving them a short wave. Suddenly, he heard someone clap below him, and looked down.

Mistake.

Thomas could feel his whole body freeze up in an instant when he realized how high up in the air he was. Cold sweat broke out on his skin, and he couldn’t force himself to look away from the small group of people down there. His heart was beating in his ears, loudly, drowning out everything around him, and he simply couldn’t make himself look away.

What a huge mistake this all was.

 

*

 

John yawned heartily, stumbling through the entrance into the colorful circus tent. “Come on, Alex, we don’t need to be here.”

“Shh,” Alex whispered, holding a finger to his lips. “Quiet. I want to see what he can do.”

John rolled his eyes, sat down on the nearest bench, and looked up to the trapeze swinging there.

Alexander sat down next to him, laying his head into his neck to get a better view of what happened up in the air. He watched Jefferson do some light training routines while Lafayette watched him with a soft look on their face. And as much as Alex hated to admit it, Jefferson’s skills were very much visible during his choreography. The tricks he did weren’t even hard or anything, but the way he executed them with such easiness and precision … It made Alexander’s blood boil. Damn him. Cocky bastard.

“He’s pretty good, huh?”, John mumbled after a while.

The shorter man rolled his eyes. “Good technique, but zero passion. And it’s not like those are hard tricks or something. He’s really just doing some basics.” He crossed his arms before his body defensively and continued to watch.

After some time, Aaron Burr entered the tent. He sat down on a bench a few rows behind them and watched quietly. Theodosia joined him shortly after, a worried frown on her face.

And then, after some more time, Jefferson finally ended his training routine and pulled himself up to stand on the bar. He lifted his hand to awkwardly wave at Lafayette, a gentle smile on his face.

John began clapping, and Alexander turned to look at him in annoyance. “Come on, he wasn’t _that_ good,” he muttered grumpily.

John shrugged. “Good enough to earn some applause, I think.” He winked at Alex before looking back up at Jefferson. His hands, which were still clapping, suddenly stopped mid-air, and he frowned in confusion. “What the …”

Alexander followed his gaze and blinked surprised. Jefferson stood up there on the wooden bar, alright, but he wasn’t … doing anything anymore. Alexander had watched countless trapeze performances over the years, had spend thousands of hours up there in the air, practicing on a swing similar to the one they had here, and never had he seen someone stand as still as Jefferson was at this moment. It was as if he was completely frozen up.

“You think he’s alright?”, John asked when the trapeze slowly stopped swinging and came to a halt over the center of the stage.

Jefferson’s gaze seemed to be fixed on the benches they sat at, not a single muscle in his face moving, and his skin suddenly looked ash gray.

Alexander shrugged and looked around, seeing equally confused, but also worried expressions on the two Burr’s faces. “What’s going on?”, he asked them, but while Theodosia didn’t even react, keeping her eyes on Jefferson, Aaron just shrugged.

With a deep sigh, Alex jumped up from his bench and walked towards the ladder, climbing it up quickly. When he reached the platform Lafayette stood on, he gently lay a hand on his friend’s arm. “Hey, what’s wrong with him?”

“I am not sure,” they started, looking incredibly concerned. “But I think he has a panic attack? We have to get him down.” They began pacing up and down, shaking their head. “We could pull him back with the hook, but you shouldn’t do this when someone is standing on the bar, right? He could _fall down. He won’t hurt himself, I know, but he can’t fall, not when he’s like this. What are we gonna do_?” They had started to speak faster and faster, and during the second half, they accidently switched to French. Alexander was extremely thankful that he could speak the language.

The short man thought for a moment, then he sighed. He couldn’t believe that he did this for this obnoxious prick. “Can you give me the swing up there?” He pointed to a second trapeze that was fixed above the platform, just a bit too high up for him to reach.

( _No, John, I am not too small. The stupid swing is just too high up, because it is built for ridiculously tall people like Laf_.)

Lafayette stopped their French ranting and looked at him. They sighed in relieve and grabbed the wooden bar, pulling it down so that Alex could take it from them. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Alex mumbled, focusing on Jefferson, who was still frozen on the spot. Alexander pushed himself off of the platform, quickly pulling himself up on the trapeze so that he was standing on the wooden bar. His trapeze swung in parallel to the one that Jefferson occupied, and through moving his body against the pull of the trapeze, he reduced his momentum, which eventually led to him stopping next to Jefferson over the center of the stage.

He finally got a good look at the obnoxious southerner. Jefferson was gripping the rope holding up the wooden bar so hard that his knuckles turned white. He was breathing in short, shallow gasps, and his eyes were wide blown and focused on the ground beneath him.

“Crap …”, Alex said under his breath. Then, he raised his voice. “Jefferson. Hey, Jefferson! Can you hear me?” When the man didn’t react, Alexander stepped to the end of his bar that was closer to the other one and held out his hand. “I am going to touch you now, okay?” His hand gently made contact with Jefferson’s, which still held on to the rope with a tight grip. Upon contact, Jefferson jerked violently, looking at Alexander sharply. “Good. It’s gonna be fine, okay? Just take deep breaths. I’m coming over to you now. Can you make some space for me?”

Alexander kept talking to the frozen man, rambling on and explaining every move he was making. He held on to the rope of Jefferson’s swing, pulling them closer together, and finally, he pushed himself off of his bar and took a big side step, landing on the other one. He gently nudged the taller man to the side a bit so that he could stand beside him, before he grabbed the second rope on the other side.

Alex blushed a bit when he realized that this meant that he practically had to wrap his arm around the other’s waist, but there was time to worry about that later. “Alright, I’m gonna make us move now. Help me if you can, and don’t fall, idiot.” He began moving his body back and forth, making the swing move – gently at first, slowly gathering momentum. He heard Jefferson’s breath hitch but decided not to address this.

The trapeze was now swinging back and forth, going up high enough to reach the platform with a jump, but Alex doubted that Jefferson could jump right now. So he let it swing back one more time, pushing his body forward to make the trapeze swing even higher. “Laf, hold out your hand for him!” He looked towards Jefferson, who was shaking slightly and had turned extremely pale, but his eyes seemed to have focused on the platform in front of them. “When I say jump, you have to take a big step forward. Okay? No need to really jump or anything. The platform will be there, and Lafayette will hold onto you.” He didn’t wait for an answer, and in the moment just before they needed the highest point, he screamed “Jump!”

Pushing lightly against his back – not hard enough to push him down if Jefferson decided not to jump, but hard enough to, well, give him a little push in the right direction – Alexander watched as the man took a large step forward, stumbled into Laf’s arms, and sank to his knees.

With a deep sigh, Alex let himself swing back one more time before jumping onto the platform himself, his feet hitting the ground softly. He didn’t spare the odd pair another glance before he began climbing down the ladder. He was a bit out of breath, but what really disturbed him was the pang of guilt that twisted in his chest when he thought about the obnoxious magenta-wearing douchebag. After all, it was Alexander who had made him go through this.

And if he ignored John when the man called his name, if he ignored Aaron grabbing for his arm when he walked past him, if he began to run as soon as he left the tent and only stopped after leaving the circus areal, hiding between the large buildings of the city … well, that was nobody’s business but his own.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the new chapter!  
> Just a quick notice before you start: I won't be able to uphold the schedule of updating every Tuesday and Saturday. University is super stressful, and ontop of the stuff I have to prepare anyways, I failed a big exam that I have to retake, and right now, that has to take priority. So in the future, I will try to update once a week, every Saturday. Once I've finished writing everything or when university gets less stressful again, that might change again, but for now, this is how it's going to be like.  
> Now, this week's chapter is a bit shorter, and then, next Saturday, the Trapeze Battle is finally going to happen! (Who is excited? I am excited!)

“That was … fucking weird,” John muttered, looking after Alexander who had just stormed out on him. He looked up to the platform, where Laf was carefully helping the new guy up. Jefferson, huh? For all the big talk about him, the man was surprisingly … average. Not his looks, obviously. John was not blind; he could totally appreciate a pretty face and a nice body, and who was he kidding? Jefferson practically radiated hotness. Then there was his extremely curly hair, almost like an afro, and his weird sense of fashion (who even wore magenta colored clothes?), but judging from the stuff he had done on the trapeze right there … Well, he was certainly good, but not as good as everyone said he’d be. Was that really the man that everyone talked about when John was still at the academy?

And then the thing with the freezing up. Was Jefferson afraid of heights or something? What trapeze artist was afraid of heights?

And now Alex was mad, for whatever reason. He flopped down to the ground, stretching his arms from both sides of his body, and tiredly watched the roof of the tent above him. He didn’t like the feeling of Alex being mad. He knew, technically, that the immigrant was not mad at _him_ , but it still felt like he had taken a blow to his stomach.

With a deep sigh, he thought back to the last few weeks. Alexander had waltzed into his life, as though he was demanding the space there, and had refused to leave. He had quickly cast a spell over the freckled man, had wrapped him up in his spider’s net, tangling threats of affection around John’s sensitive heart. And John had fallen, hard and fast. Actually, before he had even time to process it, a hot love had begun to bloom inside of him. When John had kissed Alexander after a few weeks, it had felt nice. More than nice, actually, for the immigrant was good at kissing. But it had not felt … special. There was no firework, no aching tug at his heart, no burning passion that settled within his stomach. When he had stopped the kiss, he had taken a good look at his friend and realized that he felt just the same. So they decided to stay just that – friends. They kissed on occasion, and John would be lying if he said he didn’t feel drawn towards Alexander in a physical way, but the love between them was not romantically.

And now, Alex was mad. John hated the way it had made him feel when Alexander had ignored him before storming out of the tent. Stupid Jefferson, walking in here and making his Alex feel on edge. Stupid Jefferson, looking like a human wreck up there on the trapeze, making it impossible for John not to feel concerned for him.

“Urgh!” He just needed to scream for a second, maybe throw some knifes to let off some steam. Still, he didn’t get up.

A few seconds later, a face popped into his field of vision. “John? You still alive, buddy?”

He took a deep breath and let a smile creep on his face. “Herc. You won’t believe what just happened.”

 

*

 

“Oh my god, that was embarrassing …” Thomas pressed his hands against his eyes and shook his head. “I made a complete fool out of myself, in front of Hamilton, of all people.”

“You did not,” Lafayette assured him. “You had a panic attack. That is nothing to be ashamed of. It is okay for you to be scared … With what happened and all …” Lafayette didn’t continue when they saw Thomas flinch slightly. “Maybe you should just blow off the whole thing and just not perform tomorrow? It is so soon. Even if you can do all of the tricks, you can’t just force yourself to get used to being up there again with only two days of practice.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Thomas said. “I will just … go to the practice swing or something? And I should probably thank Hamilton for helping me out …” The thought made him shudder. “I’ll see you later.” Without waiting for an answer, Thomas began climbing down the ladder, deeply lost in thoughts.

He could not really remember what had happened up there, not in detail, at least. But he could remember the panic, the fear coursing through his blood, making it impossible to move. He could remember his legs going numb and his vision blur around the edges. And suddenly, there was Hamilton’s voice, Hamilton’s touch, Hamilton. The man had really helped him, as much as it pained the Virginian to admit.

Maybe Lafayette was right, maybe it was too early for him to perform again. Maybe James was also right, and he shouldn’t have accepted Hamilton’s challenge. But he was Thomas _fucking_ Jefferson, for god’s sake. He was not going to back down now. He wasn’t called one of the greatest circus artists of his time for nothing.

With new-found determination, Thomas left the tent with big steps. He was going to win this thing. Yes, Hamilton had saved him today, and Thomas was thankful for that. He would also let the younger man know that he was. But when it came to this battle, he was not going to go easy on him. Thomas was going to make sure to beat Hamilton, and if he only did it to prove that he could. After that, he would be off to France again and forget this whole ordeal. Sure, he would miss James and Lafayette, but it was better this way. Better to leave behind The Revolution once and for all. He would have a good life in Paris, without having to worry about whether or not he would ever come back to the U.S., because he would be able to close this chapter in his life through performing with Hamilton.

The only thing that he didn’t know at that time was that a new chapter would open as soon as the old chapter would be closed.


	10. Chapter 10

“Alexander, _mon petit_ , you look stunning!” Lafayette wrapped their arms around Alex, who chuckled a bit, returning the hug.

“Thank you. Hercules really outdid himself this time.”

It was true. When Hercules had brought the new costume to Alexander this morning, tired bags under his eyes, and claimed that he had been working on it all night, Alex hadn’t known what to say. The black bodysuit was decorated with red and yellow flames that sparkled brightly in the spotlights. A few loose bands of the same fabric were fixed on his arms, creating the illusion of Alex being chased by flames. His hair was up in a tight bun, also fixed with red and yellow hair ties. All in all, Alex looked like the personification of burning passion – at least that’s what Hercules had called it.

“He sure did. And in such a short time, too! You look beautiful. Now, shall we fix your makeup?”

Lafayette wasted no time to start applying the foundation. They were working with clear strokes, their movements practiced and precise. Alex felt himself relax under their gentle treatment. He grinned when Laf picked up a box with different eyeshadows that ranged from pale yellow to dark red. Leave it to Lafayette to make him look even more dramatic.

“Aaand we are finished. Look at you, my little friend. Such a beauty.” Alexander blushed a bit under Lafayette’s praise for him, but the French person was not finished yet. “Really pretty. Don’t you agree, Thomas?”

“Huh?” Alexander whirled around and, for the first time, noticed the tall man standing behind him. When he made eye contact with Jefferson, he had to stifle back a surprised gasp.

Jefferson was dressed in a suit similar to the one Alexander wore. But instead of the red and yellow flames, his bodysuit was decorated in different shades of blue. Like gentle waves, the colorful bands wrapped themselves around his body, creating a flowing illusion. Jefferson already wore his makeup, consisting of dark blue eye shadow and light blue painted lips. The biggest surprise, however, was his hairstyle: instead of wearing them open like he had for the last few days, Jefferson had one side of his hair braided to the back. The braids were stuck tightly to his head and were sprayed with blue sparkling glitter that made it impossible to look away. On the other side of his head, the curly mess was in its natural form. It looked absolutely stunning.

(Not that Alex would ever admit that out loud.)

“Well … I guess he does look better than normally,” Jefferson said in his slow, southern drawl. “However, that isn’t too hard. Everything would look better than an oversized hoodie.”

Lafayette groaned in exasperation. “Thomas, be nice!”

“Sorry, Laf,” the man in question responded with an easy smile. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Alexander growled at him. “Asshole. Did you practice some more?”

“What is it to you?” Jefferson narrowed his eyes, his pose becoming defensive.

“I just don’t want you to freeze up again up there. We have an audience to please, you know?” The immigrant stood up and walked over to the exit.

Jefferson followed him. “What happened yesterday won’t happen again.”

Suddenly, Alex could feel his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back slightly. He turned around and raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Yes?”

“I appreciate what you did yesterday, Hamilton. But that doesn’t change anything about the competition today. I want you to go all out against me, because I won’t hold back on you either.” Jefferson’s face was serious, a mask of pure confidence.

Alexander swallowed, clearing his throat. He suddenly felt out of breath. “Of course. I wouldn’t have held back anyway.”

“Just stick to your routine,” the Virginian said. “Don’t come jumping at me. I am not there to catch you. We both just do our own thing and let the audience decide, understood?”

For a moment, it was completely quiet. Then, Alexander nodded, an excited smile flickering across his face. “Understood.”

 

*

 

“And now, please prepare for the _Grande Finale_! You could have been anywhere in the world tonight, but instead you are here with us, at The Revolution! Are you ready for a trapeze battle?” George made a pause for dramatic effect, smiling slightly as the crowd in front of him went wild. “The issue on the table: a fight between an experienced trapeze artist, former member of The Revolution, and writer of the Declaration of Independence: Thomas Jefferson!” Another round of applause. “And his challenger, our current trapeze artist, The Revolution’s newcomer, who is always good for a surprise: Alexander Hamilton!” Again, the crowd went wild. “Now, you have to understand that our Alexander challenged Thomas to this battle. But to decide who wins it, we need a judge! And who is better for that than our own audience?” He turned around slowly, looking at the excited faces around him. “So what I want all of you to do is this: Please watch the two performances. You can cheer on your favorites, of course, but the final decision will be made after everything is over. The two competitors will step forwards and get their applause, and the one who gets more support from the audience is the winner of the competition. And now, without further ado, I present to you – the Battle of Waves and Flames!”

George stepped back from the stage, waiting next to the exit so that he could also watch the performance. Thomas and Alexander already stood on their platforms on the opposite sides of the stage, facing each other. When the crowd calmed down a little, Thomas took a step forward and grabbed the bar of his swing, holding it in front of him. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, went completely still, took a deep breath and, finally, pushed himself off the platform.

The General had to take a calming breath himself. He hadn’t seen Thomas perform in over four years, but the man had lost nothing of his grace. His movements were precise and seemed to flow into each other, creating the illusion of Jefferson just moving with an invisible force that controlled him, like a river following its path. However, it did not feel right to see him up there alone. It felt wrong, so wrong that George could feel his throat closing up for a moment.

Then, he saw Alexander move. The younger man grabbed his swing forcefully and instantly pushed himself from the platform. It didn’t even take a full second of him being in the air for Alex to control the stage. His forceful movements were driven by determination, and it was almost impossible to look away from him. The fiery passion that his costume symbolized instantly moved on to the audience, who was watching him with their mouths hanging open.

But Thomas fought back. He let the easiness with which he handled the trapeze show even more, calming the audience down again, grounding them, all while still taking their breath away.

George shook his head. If someone asked him at that moment who had the better technique, who was better at controlling the audience, who was, overall, the better performer, he’d have to go with Jefferson. But Hamilton had something that just … made it impossible to look away. And even if Thomas seemed calm and collected, even if his movements looked easy and gentle, George could see fear clouding the man’s eyes. He was waiting for something to happen, something to go wrong.

And, seeing as it was Alexander that Thomas was performing with, of course something did happen.

Thomas was just hanging from his swing with the back of his knees, preparing for some somersault that would leave him standing on the wooden bar with his hands, when Alexander changed the rhythm of his swing so that he came closer to the older man. He said something that George couldn’t understand, but he could see the Thomas’ eyes widened, and he could see the panic flickering across his face as he shook his head. The swings moved away from each other, and the audience held their breath, anticipating that something was about to happen. Then, the swings moved back together again. And just when Alex, who was hanging from the bar with his hands, was at his highest point, he let go and pushed himself forward.

He quickly moved his legs towards his body, making himself as small as possible, and spun around his own axis one, two, three times, before he extended his arms and legs to reach for Thomas’ hands – which, if the two had been more in synch with each other, should have been there to catch him. Thomas reached for Alexander, but you could see the exact moment when he realized that the younger man was not high enough for him to catch him.

With an abrupt jerk, he let go of the bar with his knees, slipping down and catching himself with his feet. His legs were completely stretched now, with his feet hooked into the ropes connected to the wooden bar. Alexander quickly caught on to what was happening and pushed one arm further up.

With a jolt, their hands connected. The impact jerked both men backwards, but Thomas was able to use the momentum to swing Alexander upwards. The small immigrant landed on the wood bar and quickly bent down to pull the taller one up.

It was very quiet in the circus tent. George could see that Thomas was shaking slightly, and Alexander looked more than satisfied with himself. With a broad smile, he held up his and Thomas’ still joined hands, lifted his other hand and waved at the audience.

The crowd erupted into cheers. The people stood up from their seats, clapping and cheering for the two artists. Thomas said something to Alexander, who looked at him in surprise and began to pick up momentum again so that they could reach the platform. Thomas quickly left the swing, holding onto the bars around the platform with a tight grip that made his knuckles turn white. Alexander followed after him, nodding to the direction of the light box, where James was seated. A second later, the stage went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I managed to get my visions of the performance across to you. I took inspiration for the scene where Thomas catches Alex (or rather, how he catches him) from the Anime Kaleido Star (Season 2, Episode 12). If anyone is interested in Anime, I would generally encourage you to watch Kaleido Star, since it's a beautiful show about trapeze artists, trampoline artists, etc. etc.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. Who do you think is going to be the winner? :)


	11. Chapter 11

When the lights got turned off, Alexander quickly made contact with Jefferson’s arm so that he would know where the other man was. He could feel him shaking underneath his fingertips.

Jefferson was breathing quickly, sucking too much air into his lungs. He blindly followed the metal bars of the platform, and when he reached the ladder, he quickly climbed down. Alex followed him, looking down the ladder every few seconds to make sure Jefferson didn’t fall.

Once they made it to the backstage area, Alexander stopped right behind Jefferson. He took in the man’s stiff posture, how tightly he clenched his fists, and how hard he was holding himself up. He took a step forward, laying one hand on Jefferson’s shoulder. “Hey. You did pretty well with that jump up there.”

The next thing he knew was a stinging pain in his cheek and a loud, slapping sound. His head jerked to the side. Alexander reached up in surprise and gently lay his fingers on his cheek, which felt hot underneath his fingertips. He blinked at Jefferson’s stormy face, not really understanding what had just happened. Had Jefferson … _slapped_ him?

“Okay, wow. Normally, I don’t talk about fetishes with my partners until the third date, but if you insist …”

“How dare you.” Jefferson took a threatening step forward, making himself as tall as possible, until he was looming over the small immigrant. “How dare you not follow my instructions? I asked a simple thing of you: Do. Not. Jump at me! Was this so hard to understand? Have you ever heard about accepting one’s boundaries? How can it be so hard of you to just stick to your damn routine?!”

Alexander took a step back, then another one, but Jefferson followed him. Their bodies almost touched, and when Jefferson made a small break in his rant to let Alex respond, the younger man was suddenly hyper-aware of their closeness, with every inch of his body responding to it. He felt a shiver creep up his neck as Jefferson’s burning gaze pierced into him. But he wouldn’t be Alexander Hamilton if he didn’t know how to respond in this situation.

“Excuse me? You are a trapeze artist, for god’s sake, it is your fucking job to do jumps and stuff like this! And it’s not like you even jumped. You just had to catch me. Nothing hard about that. And you did manage to catch me, so what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” Alexander took a step forward, stabbing his finger into Jefferson’s chest, and pushed him back. “Your performance was boring as hell! I just spiced it up a little because you straight up suck!”

When Alex finally looked up to see Jefferson’s face, he froze. The man looked completely different – tired, worried, defeated.

“What if I hadn’t caught you, though?”

“Huh?” Jefferson had spoken quietly, in a broken voice that was hard to understand. “Why shouldn’t you have? I mean, you did, didn’t you? And even if you hadn’t, it wouldn’t have been that bad. There was a net there and everything.”

Their gazes held onto each other for a few seconds, before Jefferson looked away with a defeated sigh and shook his head. “There isn’t always a net. Things don’t always work out, Hamilton. The next time I ask you to stick to your routine, just stick to your routine.”

Alexander wanted to get off into another rant, but then he noticed that the entire group was staring at them. Lafayette took a careful step forward, shooting Alex a concerned look and shaking their head. With a sigh, Alexander looked towards the entry leading to the stage and held out his hand.

“Come on. We should go get our applause.”

Reluctantly, Jefferson took his hand and followed him outside. Two spotlights immediately found the odd pair, while the rest of the stage was covered in darkness. When they stepped outside, the crowed cheered for them. Alexander had never heard them cheer that loudly.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for your patience! We can now let our performers get their well-earned applause, which will also determine the winner of this competition – the Battle of Waves and Flames!” George Washington stepped in between them, a huge smile across his face. When his eyes met Alex’ for a second, the immigrant gave him a tight smile before turning towards the audience again. “Alexander, please step forward.”

Alex did as he was asked. He let go of Jefferson’s hand, immediately missing its comforting warmth, and lifted his arm to wave at the audience. He smiled broadly as he bowed, hearing the noise around him flare up and get louder. This felt so good. Being here on stage … This was where he belonged. And even though he couldn’t explain to himself why it was that way, the performance today had felt even better than normally.

Probably, it was just the competition. He had always liked to compete to others, to show what he could do.

(It surely wasn’t because of Jefferson, thank you very much.)

He took a step back, noticing that Jefferson had stretched out his arm, pointing in Alexander’s direction while he had gotten his applause, to show his appreciation for his performance. Alex felt oddly touched by the gesture, smiling at him and returning it when the older man stepped forward to bow.

The applause got louder again. It was at about the same level of noise that it had been when Alexander had stepped forward. From his position here on the stage, the shorter artist could not tell which one of them had gotten the louder applause.

Suddenly, he felt a tug at his wrist. He looked down and saw Jefferson’s hand wrapped around it. When he looked up, he saw the man giving him a tight smile. He pulled him up next to him, and hand in hand, they bowed together.

The reaction from the crowd was overwhelming. It was so loud that Alexander felt himself get a little dizzy. He blinked a few times to clear his head, thankful for the hand connected to his. Even though Jefferson wasn’t actively doing anything to hold him up, the connection grounded and supported him. Alexander laughed a little at that thought. He really needed to talk to Jefferson after the show. This man clearly had an impact on him, and if he had done something terrible enough to deserve being slapped by him, he wanted it out in the open.

The General stepped forward again, throwing an amused look at the two artists. “I think that it is clear what the audience has decided on,” he said through his microphone. “And I have to agree with you. Each one of these two actors has his own talents. They are both incredibly talented, our Alexander here pulling the audience in with his passion, Thomas enthralling them with his outstanding technique, and each on his own could perform well enough to satisfy an audience. But …”

Alexander held his breath. He wanted to win, wanted to hear his name be called out as the winner of their competition. Even though it didn’t have an impact on anything, he wanted to prove himself. He wanted to show the world that he was worth their support. He wanted to perform again the way he had done today. It had been so much fun, being up there, flying, feeling the tension fill the air. He wanted to experience that again, above anything else. He wanted …

He wanted …

He wanted to perform with Thomas again.

The realization surprised him, but when he thought about it, it wasn’t surprising at all. The sense of rivalry between them had pushed him higher up, but they had still connected when he had jumped. The thrill of jumping and knowing that someone had to catch you …  You only got this thrill from performing together with a partner.

And Alex wanted Thomas to be his partner.

“But I think we can all agree,” Washington continued, and Alexander snapped out of his thoughts. There was a tense silence around him, and without noticing it, he tightened the grip around Thomas’ hand. Wait, ‘Thomas’? Since when was he ‘Thomas’? “that these two men show the best of their abilities together. A whirl of waves and flames. And because of that, I proclaim the winner of the Battle of Waves and Flames the both of them!”

“What …?” Alexander blinked in confusion. Both of them? Because their performance had been significantly better together than alone, huh?

Well. Who would have thought.

Somehow, he couldn’t help but smile at the outcome.

 

*

 

When Thomas entered the backstage area of the tent, Lafayette pulled him and Hamilton into their arms, talking to them in French. But Thomas was way too confused about everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes to make sense of his words. He would have to sort everything out later, when it was quiet, and he could properly think.

James appeared next to him, grabbing his shoulder and asking him something. Thomas couldn’t really hear him, but he could see the concerned look on his friend’s face, so he smiled and nodded, showing him that he was okay.

He really was.

Then, he looked to his side, where Hamilton stood surrounded by his friends. The two younger Schuyler Sisters were laughing at something Mulligan had said, while Angelica smiled fondly and John hugged Alexander – and, through that, also Lafayette – tightly to his chest. Angelica’s gaze wandered over to Thomas for a second, and she winked at him.

Thomas waited for everything to calm down a bit. Eventually, the artists started to wipe off their make-up, undo their hair, and clean everything up. He kept his eyes fixed on Hamilton, and when he noticed that the smaller man was alone, he walked over to him.

“Hamilton,” he greeted.

The immigrant turned around. “Jefferson. What is it? Aren’t you okay with the results? Do you want to have another competition, because I promise you, next time, I am going to win for sure!”

“Nothing of that sort,” he interrupted him. “Come with me. I want to talk to you.” Without waiting for an answer, Thomas walked out of the circus tent. He noticed that Hamilton was following him, but he didn’t look back at him. Instead, he left the circus areal and followed the main road until he reached a bridge that he had noticed three days earlier on his way here. Was it really only three days? It seemed so much longer.

When he reached the bridge, he leaned against the railing, looking up into the dark night sky. There were no clouds out tonight, but the stars were dimmed by the light of the city.

Hamilton hopped onto the railing and made himself comfortable. For some minutes, there was just silence between them. Of course, Hamilton broke it.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

Thomas hesitated for a moment. He thought about just leaving, letting the topic cool down and disappear from Hamilton’s mind, but he felt like he really should do this. So he nodded instead of walking away. “Yes. I want to talk to you … about why I left The Revolution.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alriiiight, what do you think? I really couldn't decide who should win. In my opinion, Alex was the better one in terms of drawing in the audience, but it was important to me to make it clear that those two have so much harmony going on between them that it completely thrilled the audience. Not sure if it isn't too cheesy, though...
> 
> The next chapter, or the next two, will be flashback chapter(s), and I am super excited. But what I've written so far is going to be long, so I'm not sure whether I'll split in two. We'll see about that ... But the next chapter should probably be up in time. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure if I will be able to update next week, but I'll try my best! I couldn't finish the whole chapter, so here's the first part of the Flashback chapter.
> 
> And just to make things clear: the main plotline of this Story is set in 2018 :)

_September 1996_

“What are you doing, Tommy?”

Thomas tugged James along with him, bouncing on his feet. It was the first day of school after the summer break, and Thomas was so excited to go back to school. He couldn’t wait for all the cool subjects that he could take. Maybe they would do an astronomy project in Science this year. That would be so awesome! James could be his partner, and they would get an A on it – they always did.

“I wanna look at the new students.”

“What? Why?” James stopped to adjust his backpack, which had started to slip down his back. Thomas used the short break to push up his thick glasses.

“Mommy said that, since we are in second grade now, we are the new upperclassmen. That means that we have to look out for the younger ones, so we have to know who the younger ones are, don’t you think so?”

When James smiled at him shily, one of his tooth gaps was showing. He shrugged and took Thomas’ hand again. “I suppose so.”

They made their way to the playground, where a group of young children were playing introduction games together with a teacher. Thomas watched them in awe. They were so tiny! Then again, he had always been tall, so even within his grade, he was one of the tallest. But still. Had Jemmy been that small?

When the last one of the games was over, the children were allowed to go play by themselves. Thomas had lost interest in watching them after a few minutes, so he had sat down on one of the benches with a thick astronomy book buried in his lap. James sat next to him, holding an equally heavy book about dinosaurs.

Suddenly, a girl stood in front of them. Thomas noticed her when her shadow fell across the white pages of his book, and he looked up in surprise.

The girl was really pretty. She had chin-length, curly dark hair and equally dark eyes. Her skin was a bit lighter than Thomas’, and she wore a knee-long, pale blue dress. She clutched a book to her chest. With a warm smile, she waved awkwardly at them. “Hey. Can I sit with you?”

Thomas blinked, feeling something weird twist within his stomach. “Uhm. Sure! Make yourself comfortable.” He grinned broadly. “My name is Thomas. This is Jemmy, my best friend. We love to read, so you can always sit with us when you also want to read.” Chuckling slightly, he scratched the back of his head. “What’s your name?”

The girl smiled softly and sat down next to him. “Martha,” she answered while she opened her book.

 

 

*

 

_May 2003_

Thomas swallowed nervously, clutching the letter between his hands. He had found it on his bed when he had come home from school this day, but had not yet dared to open it. Not when his parents were just downstairs, waiting for him to disappoint them. And he knew that someone in this house would be disappointed as soon as he opened the letter. He just wasn’t sure who.

But he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to open the letter that would tell him where he would spend the next four years of his life. Not when he was alone.

So he quickly threw everything he needed into his messenger bag and left the house. “I’ll be back for dinner!” There was no response.

Thomas swung himself onto his bicycle, making his way down the hill and towards the house that he was always welcome at. He smiled when he saw the white walls of the estate appear behind the surrounding trees. He was always welcome at the Wayles’.

He let his bike fall to the ground and climbed the stairs, walking into the house without knocking. “Martha?”, he called out for her and went to her room.

The door was slightly ajar, and when he opened it, he saw her lying on top of her bed, a thick book in front of her. She wore a pink tie to keep her short curls from falling into her face, and an outrageous combination of some purple hoodie and green sweatpants. Thomas’ heart stuttered.

She was so pretty.

“Hey, darlin’ … What brought you here?” She sat up and held a hand out for him.

He took it and sat down next to her. A small smile danced across his face. “I got a letter from the school I told you about.”

She gasped. “The school for performing arts, down in North Carolina?” When he nodded, she tugged at his hand in excitement. “What did they write?”

“I didn’t open it yet …” He shrugged. “I was too nervous to do it alone, so I thought … maybe you could …” At a loss for words, he simply shrugged again, handing her the envelope.

Understanding dawned on her face as she took the letter from him. “Of course, Tommy. Let’s look into this and find out where you’ll be spending High School, yeah?” Without further ado, she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it, biting her lip as she studied it, and finally, her eyes met his. There was a shimmer of sadness in them, but she smiled brightly, taking his sweaty hand into her soft warm one.

“Congratulations, darlin’. You’re going to North Carolina.”

Thomas stared at her, unable to process the words for a moment, before he let out a loud cheer and slung his arms around her. “Oh my god, wow. This is so awesome! I can’t believe it … Oh crap, I’m gonna have to tell mom and dad. They’ll surely disapprove of it. But I am so happy right now, I really can’t …” He suddenly stopped his rant when he remembered something. “Y-You … You’re going to stay here for High School, aren’t you?”

Martha gave him a gentle smile as she kissed him on the cheek. “Yes. But you’ll come home during school breaks, and after that, we will meet again.”

Thomas took a shaky breath. “Is that a promise?”, he asked, flinching slightly at how much his voice trembled.

The girl he adored more than anything else on earth took his left hand, connected her little finger with his, brought them to her mouth and kissed his fingertip softly. “It’s a promise.”

 

*

 

_September 2007_

Thomas was so proud. He stood inside of their new one-room flat, his arm wrapped around the love of his life, and he was so proud. “So, what do you think?”, he asked, kissing her on the cheek.

Martha giggled and looked at him with love-filled eyes. “You have purple paint on your nose.”

“So do you,” he answered, rubbing their noses together and smearing some of the paint onto her.

She squealed and jumped back, laughing her rich laugh that he found so addicting and that had helped him through many lonely nights during his time at the boarding school. “Come on,” she finally said. “Let’s put the paint away and go buy some food.”

While they quietly worked side by side to put the painting utensils away, Thomas couldn’t help but think of how lucky he was. After spending four years away at a boarding school, his best friend, his angel, his everything, was still there for him. She had been there through it all, comforting him on the phone when his home sickness got too bad, spending the summers with him in the garden, reading books to each other and meeting up with James. Everything she could, she had shared with him, all while excelling in her studies. And then, just before their summer break, she had revealed something to him that she had kept as a secret for two whole years. Martha had skipped a grade, had worked even harder than ever before, just so that they could go to a performing arts college together.

How on earth did he deserve so much luck?

“Wait,” he said just before heading out with her. “I want to take a picture that I can email Laf and James later on.” He grabbed a digital camera – it had been a present from his grandfather two years ago, and something that he was very proud of – from his messenger bag and took a photo of the magenta colored room. Then, he pulled Martha to his side, kissing her on the cheek and taking a photo of the two of them together, with the room in the background.

“Gosh, you are so cheesy,” she declared and leaned against him.

He grinned. “Talking about cheesy. Can we go have mac ’n’ cheese?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the flashback chapter. I cried while writing this. 
> 
> BUT, if everything goes as I planned it, the hurt should be over (for now) and the comfort should start next chapter (hopefully). I also have to give a warning that will give away the end of this chapter, but I can't publish it without warning you, so:
> 
> WARNING: non-explicit character death
> 
> But on the bright side, we'll get some background insight for Laf, the Washingtons, and James :)

_July 2010_

Thomas took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on the door in front of him. When he heard a clear “Come in” from the inside, he set up his brightest smile and entered the caravan.

It looked just the way you expected a caravan to look. There was a small table with benches on three sides of it, a small cooking area, and a sleeping area that would normally be hidden behind a dark curtain, but right now, the curtain was drawn back and revealed the small double bed behind it. At the table, a man sat with some sort of paperwork in front of him.

“Mr. Washington, Sir?” Thomas looked at the man, blinking in surprise. He was younger than Thomas had expected him to be. Of course, he knew that Washington wasn’t old, but he couldn’t have been older than 35.

Washington looked up, a gentle smile spreading on his face. “Ah, you must be Mr. Jefferson. I am glad that you could make it here today.” He stood up and offered his hand, which Thomas took into his and shook. Washington’s grip was tight, his hand warm and dry. He spread out an aura of confidence.

Thomas grimaced internally. In comparison to that, his cold, sweaty hands must give away how nervous he was to meet the manager of this circus. But there was nothing to be done about that, he supposed. “The pleasure is all mine,” he answered with a – hopefully charming – smile. “Please, call me Thomas.”

“Only if you call me George,” the man agreed and motioned for Thomas to take a seat.

After Thomas had sat down, he put his hands together in his lap, trying not to twist his fingers around each other too much. He had always been bad with first meetings, his nerves wrapping his stomach in tight knots, but he had promised Martha to do his best at this first meeting. So he went for charming. “So, George. You sent me an email, asking me to come and see you today?”

“I did,” he answered, walking to the small fridge and getting two bottles of water for them. “Is it correct that you have just graduated last month?”

“I have.” Thomas smiled proudly. He was glad that the graduation had gone over well. So well, in fact, that he was able to graduate top of his class.

George nodded. “Then I suppose that congratulations are in order.”

The younger man laughed sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“I hear that your fiancé has also graduated, second only to you?”

“She did,” he agreed with an even prouder smile. “I know that you also asked the both of us to come today, but Martha is down in Virginia with her family at the moment.”

“Hm.” George looked at him thoughtfully. “And you aren’t?”

The smile slipped from his face as he quickly took a sip from the water bottle, so that he wouldn’t have to answer right away. When he closed the bottle again, he looked up at Washington and shrugged. “I don’t get along too well with them. It’s complicated.”

“I see …” George picked up one of the sheets in front of him, reading through it quickly, before tossing it to the side again. “Would the two of you be interested to join the King George Circus?”

“What?” Thomas blinked in surprise. He was completely baffled by the question. Of course, Martha had talked to him about the possible reasons for the meeting, but he hadn’t thought that this would really be the reason.

“I offer you and your fiancé a job at my circus. We, as part of the Circus of Britannia, want to extend our troupe, and I read about the trapeze dream team from the academy online. I saw your graduation performance, and the two of you are really something. I would offer you the possibility to work fulltime in the performing arts field, travel with our circus, and perform together as a team.”

Thomas followed his explanation with a bewildered look, nodding along slowly and trying to wrap his mind about this offer. This was incredible. With only his grandparents’ financial support for this field of career, he had always feared that he would have to give up performing soon after graduating, but this was the solution to all his worries.

“So? What do you say?”

Thomas swallowed down the knot that had formed inside his throat and slowly nodded his head. “I … will have to discuss this with Martha, but I am sure that she will agree with me when I say that we will be honored to join your circus.”

“Then take your time to talk to her,” Washington answered with a smile. “And let me know your answer as soon as you know it.”

 

*

 

_January 2012_

“Congratulations, _mon ami_! I am so happy for you, truly, you two look so beautiful together!” Lafayette slung their arm around Thomas’ shoulder, laughing and ruffling his hair.

Thomas smiled fondly and tried to even out his hair a bit. “You idiot, stop messing with my hair. Do you want her to get a divorce the same day we married?”

“Yes, sure. As if _that_ would happen,” James cut in, looking over at Martha who stood with her parents, looking stunning in her white dress. She smiled cheerful enough to fill up the whole room with her happiness, and when her eyes met Thomas’, he couldn’t help but smile back the same way. She was just so perfect.

“I don’t think I’ve ever properly introduced myself,” James continued, taking Lafayette’s hand. “James Madison. I’ve survived being Thomas’ friend since we were little, which is why he made me his best man.”

“He told me so much about you,” Lafayette answered enthusiastically. “You’re the one who studied stage design, right?”

“Yes, I work at a small theater in New York, although Thomas here wants me to join the circus.”

“Because it would do you good!”, the man in question jumped in. “Loosen up. Live your life. That kind of thing. Also, it would be so nice to have you around all the time.”

“You’d talk my ear off none stop, you nerd,” James said, but there was no bite in his voice, just gentle fondness. “And what do you do, Lafayette?”

 “I go to a performing arts school in New York,” they said with their thick accent. “I also want to join the circus one day.”

“Which reminds me that I have to introduce you to someone, Laf. Come with me.” Thomas took their hand and dragged them away from James, shouting a quick “Sorry” to his friend. “You will like him so much, and he wants to meet you really badly.”

“Thomas, who are you going to introduce me to?”, they asked, confusion filling their expression.

Thomas just winked at him, pulling him up to the Washingtons and clearing his throat. “Martha, George, I’d like to introduce someone to you. Laf, these are Martha and George Washington. George manages the King George Circus. Named after the boss of the Circus of Britannia, not George Washington. George, this is Marie … uh … Joseph? Gilbert? du … something de Lafayette, but they go by Lafayette.”

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette,“ they helpfully provided. “But as he said, Lafayette is fine.” Laf offered their hand to George, shaking his with a smile, before turning to Martha and doing the same to her.

“They’re the artist I told you about, my friend from Paris,” Thomas continued.

“Ah, I see.” George smiled broadly. “Thomas has told me a lot about you. He also told me that you were looking for an employment in a circus here in the US?”

Lafayette blinked in confusion, and Thomas simply giggled to himself. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, turning away and walking through the crowd.

He accepted congratulations from various guests, and a punch to the arm by Angelica (after he had kissed her cheek without her permission), before he finally reached his Martha.

“Hello, Mrs. Jefferson,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She laughed, her rich, beautiful voice carrying throughout the room, and turned around in his arms. “Oh, shush, you cheesy idiot.” But despite her words, she leaned up and softly put her lips on his, kissing him for some seconds before breaking into another smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

*

 

_June 2014_

“What do you mean, the King wants us to perform without safety nets?” Lafayette looked at Thomas in shock. They couldn’t believe what their friend had just told them.

“Just that. He wants us to do the performances without safety nets from now on, because he thinks it will be more thrilling.” Thomas shook his head. “This is crazy. I can’t believe that George agreed to it … Well, not that he had much of a choice.”

“True.” Laf sighed and bit their lip. “And I mean, no one ever falls during our performances, so it will be fine, right?”

“Right …” Thomas continued stretching, his hair bouncing every time he bent forwards. “Will you be okay?”

“I guess so,” they answered. “It still … how you say? Sucks.”

The Virginian laughed softly at that. “True there. Also, it will only be for a few performances, until the King realizes that it does nothing good for the show.”

When they went to the backstage area some time later, just before the show was about to begin, Thomas could see that George was extremely nervous. Martha Washington stood with him, talking to him in a calming way. But the tension of the new circumstances was noticeable in the whole area. Everyone was more on edge today than normally, and understandably so.

When his wife came up to Thomas, she gently wrapped her arms around his waist. “Calm down. It’s gonna be fine. After all, it’s not really all that different today, is it?” She kissed his cheek. “We don’t normally fall, we won’t fall today.”

He smiled softly. “I guess you’re right.” Bringing her hand to his lip, he kissed her fingertips lovingly. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They watched the other artists do their separate shows from the backstage area. The famous Jefferson couple had their appearance in the second half of the show, and when everything went well until then, Thomas was finally able to shake off the last bit of tension.

“Come on, then,” he said as they went to the stage together.

Martha smiled at him. “Love you, darlin’,” she said before climbing up the ladder to the trapeze platform.

Thomas blinked in confusion. She never said that to him before a show. Well, he certainly wouldn’t complain about it.

When he was finally up in the air, he enjoyed all the surprised gasps and excited cheers from the audience. The crowd loved their daring stunts, and Thomas felt confident and at home like he did nowhere else.

After their first jump went well, he pulled Martha up with him and kissed her hand. “Love you, too,” he murmured and winked at her. She laughed softly, reaching up for her trapeze and swinging out of his reach again.

Their second jump, one where Martha did a somersault in the air and he caught her by her two hands, also went well. The cheers from the audience swelled to a new level, and Martha laughed with them and waved at a group of children sitting right at the front. Again, she swung out of his reach.

When their third jump came, Thomas dangled from his trapeze with the back of his knees. He swung in synch with her, and this jump was comparably easy. Martha would do a single spin around her own axis in the air, and he would catch her and pull her up with him. It was one of their basic jumps, one that they always did as a warm up when training together.

But it went horribly wrong.

They were in complete synch, and Thomas could see the way Martha checked for it one last time before she jumped. She held on to the wooden bar with her hands, and just before it was time to let go, she twisted her body a bit to gather momentum for her spin.

And suddenly, she was already flying. Her hands had let go of the bar too early, and a pool of ice flooded Thomas’ stomach when he realized that she was spinning in the wrong direction, that she was flying too low, that she was _out of his reach_.

“Martha!”, he cried and pushed himself forward, trying to get closer to her, trying to do something, anything, but _she was already falling_ , her eyes wide open in shock, her face turned towards his, he could see the moment she realized that _he_ _wasn’t going to catch her_ , and then …

She wasn’t falling anymore.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the last chapter. Martha didn't deserve this.  
> I also wanted to take a moment and thank you all soooo much for your Support! We've reached over 100 kudos, and all your comments make me so happy! Thank you all for sticking with me and reading this, it means so much to me. <3
> 
> Alrighty, now let's end this small flashback arc, and back to the present time!

Alexander stared at the man next to him. He felt cold. His hands were shaking slightly, and he shifted on the railing to get a better seat. It was quiet, none of the two men saying anything, and the only thing that could be heard was the river underneath them.

Thomas was standing at the railing, holding onto it with a grip hard enough to make his knuckles stand out white in contrast to his dark skin. There were tear streaks on his face, and he bit his lip so hard that Alex could see a bit of blood well up.

For a long time, the younger man didn’t know what to say. What do you say to your rival who has just told you that the love of his live jumped to death? But Alexander, being Alexander, couldn’t just say nothing, so he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

“My mother died because she spent our last money on medicine for me, not for herself.”

It was quiet for a moment, then, Thomas frowned and turned towards the immigrant. “What?”

“I was twelve. We were both sick; there was some kind of epidemy, I think. We only had very little money on the side, and she bought medicine from it. She told me that she was also taking it, that we were both going to get better, but in the end, I woke up next to her being … gone.” He took a shuddering breath, looking down at the ground in front of him. “I always felt responsible for her death.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” the older man was quick to reassure, and Alex gave him a pointed look.

“You’re right, it wasn’t. And Martha wasn’t your fault.”

Thomas flinched when his wife’s name was mentioned. He averted his eyes again, looking down at the dark stream of water underneath the bridge. “I know. My head knows, but …”

“… but you don’t believe your head.”

“Yeah.”

Again, no one said anything for a few minutes. Again, it was Alex who broke the silence. “I can understand now why you didn’t want me to jump.”

Thomas turned towards him, raising one eyebrow in question. “Is that an apology?”

“Fuck no,” Alexander answered, looking almost insulted by the question. “I would never apologize to a magenta-wearing fucker like you.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it!”

“Yes, of course.”

“Gosh, just … shut up.” Alex crossed his arms and looked up to the stars above them. “What happened after that performance?”

Thomas followed his gaze, billions of small lights reflected in his eyes. “The performance was immediately stopped. I was taken to the hospital. Trauma prevention, they called it. The Circus of Britannia closed down the King George Circus, and it looked like everyone would lose their jobs overnight. I felt so numb during these days … I can’t remember much of the funeral, only that everything was white – white lilies on a white coffin.” His voice wavered for a moment. “Martha looked beautiful in white.” Taking a short break, he cleared his throat and pressed his eyes shut. “I … remember hearing Washington and Lafayette talk to each other. They were both incredible sad about Martha, but they were talking about the future of the circus. Of course they were; it was their job, after all. They just hadn’t talked about it to me because I was … mourning, I guess? Numb. I was definitely numb. But I overheard it, and I realized that Martha wouldn’t have wanted everyone to lose their home, because that’s what the circus was, you know? A home.”

Alexander nodded. “It is a home for me, too.”

“Because of that, I sat down and wrote a letter. It was an open letter to King George, one in which I explained what had happened with the safety net and everything to the public, and it was published in many national newspapers. People raised funds, making it possible for Washington to re-open the circus under his own direction.”

“The Declaration of Independence … That’s why the circus is called The Revolution?” Suddenly, the dots connected in Alexander’s head, and he didn’t understand how he couldn’t have grasped this before.

Thomas chuckled lowly. “Fancy name, huh? Declaration of Independence … Anyways, I left the States on the day after it was published. I went to France and began teaching at a school there, breaking off any connection to The Revolution, except for some emails with James.”

“When did he join The Revolution? Or was he already there before all that happened?” Alex realized that he knew almost nothing about many of the other members. He figured that the Schuyler sisters must have been there already six years ago, because Thomas had talked about Angelica being at his wedding, but other than that …

“Oh, James.” Thomas smiled softly again. “He quit his job in New York, even declining an offer from Broadway, to get down here and help George build up The Revolution after I had left. He claimed that he felt responsible for it, somehow. Because of Martha, I guess.”

“And you? Do you feel responsible for The Revolution?” Alexander let his legs swing, waiting for the other man to answer his question.

Thomas blinked. “Of course I do. The people here are my friends.”

“Then why are you going back to France?”

Alex finally tore his gaze from the stars and looked at the man next to him. Thomas’ hair was still braided to the back on one side, but he had wiped off his make-up before coming to the bridge. His eyes were widened a bit, like he had been caught doing something forbidden.

“I … That’s not …”

“Thomas!” Alex groaned inwardly when he heard Madison’s voice from the other side of the bridge. He looked over to the short man – he took immense satisfaction in the few centimeters that he had on the obnoxious Virginian – and sighed deeply. So much for their talk.

“Well, I’d better get going,” he said, jumping down from the railing and turning his back to the two friends. “I’ll see you around. And think about it. It doesn’t do well to run away forever.” With that, he left them both standing there.

Damn, he thought, shaking his head to himself. I really want to perform with him again.

 

*

 

“What was that about?”, James asked, looking at Thomas with clear concern on his features.

Thomas shrugged. “I’m not too sure about that …” He reached up, noticing the dried tear streaks for the first time, and quickly wiped them away. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? Are you serious? You’ve been gone for two hours!” James shook his head. “How should I have known that Hamilton hasn’t pushed you into the river or something?”

“We weren’t fighting,” Thomas began to explain, then stopped. He didn’t know how to explain what they had been doing.

But James wouldn’t just stop there. “Then what have you been up to?”

“I … kinda told him about Martha? We talked about the accident.” Again, Thomas could only look to the floor in front of him.

James was silent for some moments, then he pressed his lips together and nodded. “Good. It is about time that you talk to _someone_ about it, even if that someone is Hamilton.”

The taller man chuckled softly. “I didn’t know you dislike him so much.”

“I don’t,” James responded. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Aww, don’t be, Jemmy. I’ll be okay.”

A soft look flickered across James’ face, and he smiled slightly. “I hope so.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update. I didn't manage to finish this chapter earlier. I hope you'll still enjoy it.  
> Also, important stuff going on in the endnote, so please make sure to read that!

Alexander bit his lip and hesitated shortly before he opened the door to his and John’s caravan. As soon as he stepped inside, he was tackled to the ground.

“Wah! What’s going on?!”, he screamed. When he looked up, his eyes met those of John Laurens.

“Alex! Where were you?” The man pulled Alex close, hugging him tightly. “We were worried when you were gone for so long!”

“We?” Alex looked up, seeing Laf and Hercules directly behind John. They both looked extremely relieved. Alexander smiled sheepishly. “Oh, you’re all here? I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“Worried? _Mon ami_ , you just disappeared for hours! We called you over and over again.” Lafayette sat down at the table, pointing at the phone that lay on the table.

“I left it in my bag; I think it’s turned off.” The short immigrant stood up and sat down next to Lafayette, looking at his other friends in expectation. “Are you going to keep standing there?”

Reluctantly, they both sat down. “Man …” Hercules sighed. “You really worried us.”

“And I said I’m sorry. I was talking to Thomas …”

John raised his eyebrows. “So he’s ‘Thomas’ now? When did that happen?”

Alexander could feel his cheeks getting hot. “U-uhm … I don’t know. Thomas, Jefferson, whatever. He’s a dick.”

“And what did he say?”, Lafayette asked. “What did you two talk about?”

Alex bit his lip as he felt the smile fall from his face. “Martha.”

“Who?” John and Hercules exchanged confused looks, but Laf’s face was instantly flooded in sorrow.

“Oh. Poor Thomas. He must miss her so much.” They sighed deeply. “I miss her as well. She was a true angel.”

“She sounded … like a really good person,” Alexander mumbled. “I think it did him some good to talk about it, though.” He shrugged awkwardly. “It helped me to talk about it when my mother died.”

The caravan was filled with tense silence. After some time, Hercules broke it. “So what now? Is he going to stay here?”

“I don’t think so,” Alex responded, shaking his head. “He’s going back to France. But who cares.”

Despite his words, Alexander knew the answer to that question. He cared. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, it drove him crazy that Thomas would just leave again. He didn’t know why, but he just wanted to perform with the man again. Taking their bows together had felt entirely different, and just right in a way that he couldn’t describe.

Lafayette hummed softly and bit their lip in thought. “Who knows? Thomas might just surprise you. He has always had a thing for the dramatic.”

 

*

 

**VIVE LA RÉVOLUTION**

**frenchfry** : thomas? i need to talk to you

**frenchfry** : don’t ignore me

**frenchfry** : I see that you read that

**frenchfry** : gonna keep texting you

**frenchfry** : thomas

**frenchfry** : thomas

**frenchfry** : thomas

**macnfrance** : What?

**frenchfry** : thomas

**frenchfry** : oh, you finally responded

**frenchfry** : did you really tell alex about martha? I’m so proud of you

**macnfrance** : Did anyone ever tell you that your texting is really annoying? Like, don’t write such short messages, and how about you use some proper spelling and punctuation marks?

**macnfrance** : But yes, we talked about Martha. Why?

**frenchfry** : okay so first, my

**frenchfry** : messages

**frenchfry** : are

**frenchfry** : awesome

**frenchfry** : and second, that is really good. it is important to talk about such stuff, and you never talked to anyone of us

**frenchfry** : not even James

**frenchfry** : (don’t even try to lie about it, I talked to him)

**macnfrance** : Fine, okay. Was that all you wanted?

**frenchfry** : no, I also wanted to ask a favor of you

**macnfrance** : … what is it?

 

*

 

Thomas leaned his head against the window of the car and closed his eyes. The sun was shining too brightly, making the inside of his eyelids glow a light red. The glass felt cold against his skin, but it felt good. Something to focus on, something to ground him. The air conditioning was cold against his hands, and he tucked them in underneath his arms.

“The traffic is good today,” James said from the driver’s seat. “We should get to the airport in time.”

Thomas just hummed in response, focusing on the glass against his skin. He only noticed that he had dozed off when James spoke again.

“Are you going to come back someday?”

“Will you be mad if I don’t?”, he mumbled, opening one eye and glancing at his best friend.

James had his sleeves rolled back behind his elbows, and his right hand gently lay in his lap, while the other held onto the steering wheel. He frowned slightly. “I will be mad if you stop answering my emails again.”

Thomas hummed again. He sat up and began to gather his hair in his hands, tying them back loosely with a hairband. “I promise that I won’t break off contact again.”

“Good.”

Quiet fell over the car again, only disrupted by the soft music coming from the speakers. Country music. It fit the scenery, Thomas thought.

His phone buzzed when an email arrived. He checked it, rolling his eyes as he saw that it was just some spam mail that wasn’t filtered correctly, and then began to scroll through some of his older emails. He stopped when he came to the one James had sent him some weeks ago.

He glanced at James, checking to see that the other one was not looking in his direction, and opened it. He smiled softly as he read the gentle words, describing The Revolution with so much love and compassion. He had never thought that James would be part of this circus with all his heart, but here they were.

He froze when he came to the part where James began to describe Hamilton.

_He has been performing with us for a month now, and he brought new ideas and a fresh motivation with him. I think he would inspire you. He’s the kind of person you want to perform with (and if not with, then against)._

Something inside of Thomas twisted as he read these words. James had already known back then that they would perform against each other? Well, that was certainly interesting. But what was even more interesting was the painful tug that Thomas felt inside his chest as he re-read those words, over and over again. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise, and he felt excitement flood his chest.

“The kind of person you want to perform with …”, he read out loud.

“What?” James shot him a quick confused glance before he looked back at the street. “Did you say something?”

Another memory came back to him, one of a text message he received three days ago, at the night of their performance.

**_VIVE LA RÉVOLUTION_ **

**_frenchfry_ ** _: no, I also wanted to ask a favor of you_

**_macnfrance_ ** _: … what is it?_

**_frenchfry_ ** _: just think about it again. don’t do anything you will regret later on._

**_macnfrance_ ** _: What do you mean?_

**_macnfrance_ ** _: Lafayette?_

There had been no response after that. But in this moment, Thomas realized what Lafayette had meant by that message. Something he would regret later on …

He felt himself begin to grin as he shook his head. “Jemmy, can you turn around at the next exit?”

“What? Why?” James shot him another look. “Did you forget something? You’re gonna miss your plane if we go back now.”

Thomas turned off his phone and looked out of the window, taking in the rolling hills and the deep blue sky. He felt giddy all of a sudden, and in the best possible way so. “Who cares?”

 

*

 

Alex’ eyes fluttered open as he felt John poke his finger into his cheek. “What?”

“What’s wrong with you?” The freckled man looked down at him in concern.

Alexander’s head was rested in John’s lap, the taller one softly stroking through his dark hair with one hand. The other one poked his cheek again.

“Stop that. Nothing’s wrong with me.”

John raised a single eyebrow. “You’ve been gloomy all day.”

“Gloomy my ass.” Alexander closed his eyes, only to snap them open again when John, for what felt like the hundredth time, poked his cheek. “What?!”

“Is it because of Jefferson?”

That made Alexander pause. Their competition had been three days ago, and they hadn’t talked to each other since Thomas had told him about Martha. This morning, he had left early together with Madison to drive to the next airport, where he’d take his plane back to France. Such an asshole.

“I’m not gloomy, and if I were, it sure as hell wouldn’t be because of that pompous, magenta-wearing, nerdy asshole freak called Thomas fucking Jefferson.”

“Well, nice to see you again, too,” a voice behind him suddenly said, and Alex jumped up and stared into said pompous asshole freak’s face. The older man wore a sarcastic half-grin and looked down on him in a mocking way.

“What are you doing here?!” Alexander scrambled to his feet, pointing at Thomas in accusation. “Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

Thomas shrugged, checking his pocket watch – what kind of person even had a purple pocket watch?! – in a nonchalant way, and looked over his shoulder to one of the caravans. The General’s caravan, Alex noticed.

“I had something to sort out.” The sarcastic grin melted away into a more genuine one, and Alexander was surprised how much younger Thomas suddenly looked. “Things to take care of.”

“And?” Alexander crossed his arms before his chest in defense and narrowed his eyes. “Did you?”

“Did I what?” Thomas grinned again, again in a more mocking way, but somehow playful. Alex couldn’t really describe it. It just didn’t feel as … hostile.

He still rolled his eyes at the non-telling answer. “Did you manage to sort everything out, asshole?”

“Now, now.” The man took a step forward until he was directly in front of Alexander. He looked down at him, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that any way to talk to your new partner?”

Alex stared at him, his mouth hanging open, as his mind tried to process what he had just heard. Was that … seriously … What?

“Partner?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this! This is the end of the first "Season" of The Greatest Show. This is the point where I have to take a break from this fanfiction, but don't worry, I totally plan to continue it!
> 
> My private life (especially university, a theatre that we are performing at the end of June, and so on) are super stressful at the moment, so I don't have the time to continue with this story at a level on which I am happy with it. Because of that, I will put it on pause for now and continue writing it when University is over, probably in July. I hope to see some of you again then, because this story is not over yet - it feels like it's only just begun to me!
> 
> I want to thank all of you for reading everything so far, commenting, giving kudos, etc. I've never written a story that was so well perceived, and I love every single reaction I've got from you. Thank you all so much, and I hope to see you again this summer!


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